In Their Place
by woundedbutterfly
Summary: Casey and Olivia need to find the missing Elliot Stabler. Only trouble is, he's not been reported missing. Secrets, chihuahuas and an undercover investigation are only the beginning... oh, and it's Casey/Elliot. Finally complete!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Special Victims Unit or any of the characters in it, but I sometimes like to imagine I do… I also don't own the lion king, to which there are a few references in the first couple of chapters**

**Warnings: None so far, that I can think of, but if a chapter warrants it, I'll put it on there…**

**A/N Unlike my other story, "Like Father", Olivia will be an ass kicking detective who likes to put criminals in prison instead of being one herself! Also, there shall be less guest stars from other law and orders. Hopefully…but we'll see. Oh, and this is going to be slow to update until I complete "Like Father", cause I started that one first.**

**In Their Place**

THE APARTMENT OF ADA CASEY NOVAK

"Liv, you could not be more of a commitmentphobe ." Casey laughed, as she flopped down on the sofa next to her friend and Co-worker at the Manhattan sex crimes division, offering her freshly micro-waved popcorn.

"I can't believe you wear pyjamas at your age! What would the people think if they knew that tough as nails ADA Novak sleeps in sheep print PJ's?"

"Don't try to change the subject." Casey scolded, "how many long has it been since Kurt moved in?"

Olivia rolled her eyes, she knew where this was going, "four days ago."

"And how many nights is it now you've been crashing on my couch?"

"Enough of the cross-examination Casey! Can't a girl spend time with her friend without arousing suspicion?" Olivia said, affecting a mock hurt expression.

"Hey, I don't mind the company, I'm just saying, your boyfriend moves in to your apartment, and you then practically move in with me. The facts suggest you might need to re-evaluate your relationship."

"Do you ever stop being a lawyer?" Olivia asked, giving her a gentle elbow nudge. Before Casey could reply, her cell rung. She snatched it up before Olivia could read the caller ID.

"Gotta take this," She said to Olivia, "pick a DVD to watch." She added, darting into the kitchen. She shut the door behind her and instinctively neatened her hair before hitting answer.

"Hey," She said.

"What are you wearing?" The caller asked huskily, "wait…don't answer that. I already know… blue sheep print flannel pyjamas."

Casey flushed red, "how did you know that?"

"Don't be embarrassed, I find livestock _very _sexy." Casey couldn't help but laugh.

"El, you really need to work on your dirty talk."

"What I really need is to see you. Right now."

Casey sighed, "I can't, Liv's here. Again." Olivia didn't know about her and Elliot. No one did. They had only been together a month, and it was complicated. Elliot was still technically married (though separated), and neither was sure how they felt about the other yet. They hadn't quite got around to discussing that. They hadn't got around to a hell of a lot of talking at all, but that was fine by Casey for now. Both of them were having fun.

"I know. She's by your bookshelf, criticizing your film collection."

Casey gasped, "What? Where are you?"

"On the fire escape."

"Elliot!" She whisper-shouted down the phone. She could hear Elliot snickering then his voice turned serious.

"We can get away with this, go to the bathroom, turn on the radio loud and the water, then tell Liv you need to take a shower. I'll sneak into the bathroom while you're telling her that, then you join me." He had the whole thing figured out. But there was still a high chance they would get caught. Although that hadn't stopped Elliot after hours in the locker room a couple of weeks ago.

"Okay, but we'll have to be quick."

"I'll do my best." Elliot said, hanging up. Casey turned up the bathroom radio full blast and turned the water on, paying no heed to the temperature. She then re-entered the living room to find Olivia looking at her boxset collections.

"Wow Case, Ally McBeal, Perry Mason, Boston Legal…wide range of interests you got there."

"I'm gonna take a shower," Casey said.

"I didn't you just take one around half an hour ago?"

"I know, I just...feel like another one." Casey said lamely. She could hear Elliot trying to open the window behind her. Olivia was definitely within sightline. Casey had to think fast.

"You know what, I think I've got some more movies in here." She said, quickly bundling Olivia into her bedroom.

"Finding Nemo, Lion King, _and _Lion King 2: Simba's Pride?" Olivia laughed, "I know why you keep these in here!"

"I have nieces and nephews." Casey protested, even though she was an only child. Olivia didn't need to know she just happened to enjoy whimsical Disney classics. They made a nice contrast from the severity of her day job.

"Really? You never said you had siblings." Olivia said, looking interested. Casey had already invented nieces and nephews. She wasn't about to create fictitious brothers and sisters as well.

"Uh, yeah. I better get that shower now, start the movie without me, if I own it, I've seen it."

Olivia shrugged, "All right."

Casey stole into the bathroom, quickly locking the door behind her, greeted by a large dark familiar silhouette behind her shower curtain and a pile of discarded mens clothes by the sink. Her sheep print pyjamas quickly joined them, speed aided by their snap fasteners, and she joined Elliot in the shower.

"I've missed you." Elliot mimed, water cascading over his head, trickling down over his muscular shoulders and defined chest.

"I saw you this morning at the office." She whispered, patting him on the chest. He pulled her against himself, under the stream of water. It was pleasantly hot.

"You weren't naked though," He whispered back, pressing a few wet kisses to her lips. "well, you were in my head, but that's not the same." He pressed her back against the cold tiles and covered her mouth with his again, taking the kisses deeper this time. Casey returned his kisses and did her best not to moan when he was entering her in what seemed like moments. But then, she was the one who had told him it needed to be quick.

After they were done, Casey composed herself, wrapping her Copper-blonde hair quickly up into a neat turban, an ability which most women seemed to have genetically built in without the need for any sort of instruction. She left Elliot in the bathroom, and made her way to the sofa where Olivia was watching the Lion King, casually bopping her head and singing along softly with Timon and Pumbaa to the second verse of the upbeat musical number 'Hakuna Matata'.

"Caught! You even know the words!" Casey announced gleefully.


	2. I've got this pounding in my head

**A/N I swear to god, I do not have a bizarre Lion King fetish. The references will stop soon :-). And thanks for reading and reviewing, tis well ace. And as for the person who said this should be EO… there are plenty of EO stories out there, and not nearly enough CE, so I shall continue to populate this website with them :-), coz it makes me happy…**

Chapter Two: I've got this pounding in my head

TWO WEEKS LATER

A BASEMENT SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK

"Stand, by me, oh won't you stand, by me. Darling darling…"

Casey woke up and cut Olivia off mid-song. She found herself flat on her back on a cold concrete floor with her head resting on Olivia's lap. Olivia was sat on the floor, looking down at her quizzically, "Liv, what the hell?" She muttered. She tried to get up, but when she moved her neck, she realized she had a headache that could slay a woolly mammoth.

"Shush-shush," Olivia said, in a motherly fashion, sweeping her hair off her face delicately "stay put Case, I think you're concussed." The last few hours were a blur.

"How did I get concussed?" She asked, blinking hard against the flashes of pain and white light in her vision which seemed to confirm Liv's hypothesis.

"Elliot pistol-whipped you." Olivia shrugged. Now Casey was even more confused.

"What?" She asked.

"Don't feel too bad sweetie, he got me too," Olivia sighed, pushing her bangs to one side to reveal a nasty looking gash on her temple.

"Why would he do that?" Casey said. Memories were there, but hard to grasp. They'd gone to a warehouse. No. A house. A meeting house? They were looking for Elliot. He was wearing a ski mask but she recognized his blue eyes. Sky coloured. Intense. Unmistakable. But that was it. It was a goddamn 100 piece jigsaw with only 5 pieces in the box. Casey decided there and then head injuries were her least favourite type of injury. She remembered (or rather didn't remember) when she had been attacked in her own office by an angry brother of a rape victim, and it had both scared and frustrated the hell out of her.

Olivia shrugged, "No idea,"

She remembered other men in ski masks, and uniforms of some kind, "who was with him?"

"I don't know, I just remember waking up here about an hour ago. Doors locked, won't budge. I think we're in part of a basement, that's why there's no windows. We're gonna have to wait for El to come back. But don't worry. Just before he knocked me out he said he was going to knock my ass all the way to Amsterdam."

Casey squinted at the Detective, "Are you sure it's just me that's concussed Liv?"

"No Casey, it was a code. A while back we came up with a word we could mention if one of us was in trouble, or compromised, but it had to be something that wouldn't come up in everyday conversation. So, we decided on Amsterdam. He said that so I'd know that he was ok, he hasn't been brainwashed or anything. At least I hope so anyway."

"Great," Casey managed to get herself upright and leant against the wall next to Olivia. "That doesn't explain why you were singing another Lion King track when I woke up."

Olivia grinned, "you were kind of out of it earlier. You called me Mom and asked me to sing you a song."

Casey put her face in her hands, "Oh god, really?"

"'Fraid so." Olivia said.

"Thanks."

Olivia looked confused, "for what?"

Casey shrugged nonchalantly, "singing me the song."

"I won't tell the guys about it if you don't tell them about the Hakuna Matata incident."

Casey shook Olivia's outstretched hand, "Done."

"I still can't believe you thought I wouldn't notice my own partner trying to sneak out your window," Olivia said, laughing at the memory. "He's not exactly built for stealth."

"Well at least you got to watch the Lion King with someone else who knows all the songs," Casey ribbed back.

************

TWO WEEKS PRIOR

THE APARTMENT OF ADA CASEY NOVAK

Elliot had managed to trip climbing out of Casey's window back onto the fire escape, so not only had he revealed his presence to his Partner Olivia, he had nearly killed himself in the bargain.

Surprisingly, Liv had been delighted with the news, although she had rebuked Casey for holding out on her about it. Since Elliot had hurt his ankle, Casey had let him stay to watch the rest of the film. They had opened a few bottles of wine, and when Casey returned from a short trip to the bathroom, she found Elliot and Olivia performing a subdued, but lyrically perfect duet of the song 'Can you feel the love tonight?' As sung by the films Lion protagonist, Simba, and his future Lion wife Nala.

"I can't believe you guys know the words to these songs," Casey said, shaking her head. She set herself down next to Elliot, and he had to remind himself it was fine to put an arm around her in Liv's presence, which he did, and was glad to feel her snuggle against him.

"Hey, I've got kids, this is all I get to watch. What's your two's excuses?" Elliot mocked. Both women were silent. He had them there.

This evening almost made up for the phone call he'd gotten today. The two phone calls actually.

One from the IAB, one from his soon to be Ex-Wife. He wasn't sure which was worse. In truth, that was one of the main reasons he had come to see Casey tonight. That and…

"Oh shit…" Elliot said abruptly, hopping off the couch. Both women peered over the couch at him, confused as he rustled through the pockets of his jacket. Finally, he found the little box he was looking for. He joined Casey on the couch.

"Okay, I wasn't sure if we were doing this, but, hell, happy one month anniversary." He sheepishly handed Casey the small box. She opened it cautiously.

"Cuff links?" she said.

Elliot nodded, "yeah, you're always complaining that your lawyer blouses need cuff links and you can only ever get guys ones, so I got you some girly ones." He waited nervously. He knew he should have stuck to the classics. Flowers, chocolates. That kind of shit.

"Thank you El," Casey said, hugging him suddenly, "that is so sweet, I'm sorry, I kinda forgot, I didn't get you anything." Elliot realized that Casey's hesitance hadn't been due to her not liking the gift, but due to her not remembering/not thinking to commemorate their one month anniversary. After several missed milestones and subsequent days spent in the proverbial dog house, Elliot was glad to be on this side of it for once.

"Don't worry, you can make up for it later," He whispered. Obviously not quietly enough because Olivia piped up,

"Hey! Still here!"


	3. Bad Guys, Bad Days and Bad Plans

**A/N This was written during a particularly vicious case of insomnia so I apologise for the quality in advance. Thanks as always for reading and reviewing, love, love, love…**

**Anyway, the group in this story is entirely fictitious, but groups like it do exist. You'll see what I mean later. Anyway, on with the story…**

_Chapter Three: Bad Guys, Bad Days and Bad Plans_

TWO WEEKS LATER

A BASEMENT SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK

"It's simple Casey, I'll hide out here," Olivia said, gesturing to behind the only door that led out of the small room they had been sequestered in, "you make a loud noise, someone will come in to check out what's happening, when that happens, you keep him distracted while I hit him with this fire extinguisher, then take his gun, and we escape."

Casey rolled her eyes, "it doesn't matter how many times you repeated it Liv, your plan still sucks. What if it's Elliot that comes to check up on us? What's your plan then?"

Olivia gave a wicked smile and made a fake swing with the Extinguisher, "revenge." Casey looked shocked, so she added, "joking Case, I've worked with Elliot for some time now, I think I can recognize the back of his head. Let's not get too wrapped up in the details. You know what this groups MO is, the longer we stay here…"

"I know, I know." Casey cut in, taking up position near the wall facing the door. Olivia smiled and pressed her back against the wall next to the door. Casey steadied her breath, then looked at Olivia, waiting for her signal.

"Casey, try not to look at me, if you're looking at me when he comes in, he's going to follow your sight line, and I won't get a shot at him with the fire extinguisher."

"Okay," Casey said, focusing her eyes on the door. She wasn't sure what to shout, but there was a single battered wooden chair in the room. Casey picked it up by the back legs and threw it with all her might at the wall the door inhabited. To her surprise, it shattered loudly into pieces. The extra workouts she'd been doing to improve the her batting power on the baseball pitch must have been working. The sound within the small space had been cacophonous, and Casey and Olivia didn't need to wait long before the door swung open so fast Liv had to back hard into the wall behind her to avoid being smacked with it.

In flash, Elliot was inside the room, lifting Casey off her feet by her jacket collar and pressing her back into the wall. The motion was swift, but in actuality, he hadn't slammed her into the wall, in fact, it had hardly hurt, except her shoulder blades which had taken the brunt of the impact.

"Listen to me Casey," He whispered threateningly, she could feel his breath hot against her face, and for the first time in her life, she was scared of him, "there is a camera in this room, right up there in the left corner, but it doesn't have sound, so right now, they can see us, but not hear us. I'm going to get you two out of here, but for now, you're going to need to trust me. Don't try to escape or you're just going to piss these guys off even more. I wouldn't let anything happen to you, ever. Now I'm going to pretend to punch you, and I want you to fall to the ground like a train hit you. Okay?"

Casey nodded slowly, and tried to keep her eyes from straying to Olivia, who was now directly behind Elliot, slowly reaching for his sidearm. Seconds later, a gunshot rang out, echoing violently around the small room.

SIX DAYS AND ONE WEEK PRIOR

THE OFFICE OF CAPTAIN DONALD CRAGAN

"I shouldn't be having this conversation with you _again_!" Cragan hollered at the wincing Detective.

"Captain, we were this close," Elliot protested, making a pinching gesture with one hand, "we nearly had the bastards!"

"And now we have to cut him loose, and the IAB are on your tail. And you know what I have to ask you for." Elliot was already handing him his gun and badge and storming out of the office before he had a chance to add anything else.

THE OFFICE OF ADA CASEY NOVAK

"We're screwed," Casey said, resignedly, throwing a stack of documents down onto her desk and flopping into her chair. Olivia rubbed her throbbing temples. She had been awake well over forty-eight hours and her rest-deprived body was beginning to protest her self-inflicted sleep embargo. Coffee was only a temporary fix.

"Casey, if you let him go, you know what he's going to do." She said. The ADA shot her an unduly evil, slightly bloodshot glare. It seemed the Lawyer hadn't been sleeping much either.

"_I__'__m _not letting anyone go." Casey snapped bitterly. "The law is. I'd like nothing better then to nail that son-of-a-bitch, but we have nothing to hold him on except the eye witness testimony of a homeless man who was so strung out on acid when he saw Hamilton dump the body that he also insisted that Jesus was present at the scene."

"That was just another homeless guy with beard," Olivia sighed, "can't we just tell him to leave that part out when he goes to court?"

"Liv, I'm not about to go to court with a witness who, under questioning, is liable to start rambling that he witnessed, not only murder of Sally Rekovic, but also the second coming of the Christ." Casey leant an elbow on her desk, exhaling loudly. "Anyway, it's out of my hands. Branch says to cut him loose."

"All right," Olivia said, taking the seat on the other side of Casey's desk, wearily. "Anything we can do about their website?"

Casey shook her head, "Even though the M.I.T.P.'s website is full of reprehensible bullshit, short of attempting to get the first amendment revoked, there's nothing I can do. They are within their rights to air their bigoted opinions."

For the last month, the Special Victims Department had been trying to link a string of murders of high profile womens rights campaigners to a group calling themselves 'Men In Their Place', or M.I.T.P. for short. All five women, who had been raped, brutally beaten, murdered and then found in a public place wearing nothing but a 'Scold's bridle'*, had, prior to their demise, been the target of vicious tirades on the groups website. Each of these vicious essays had been authored personally by Nick Vander, the groups leader and the founder of their doctrine, which stated that the progress of equality between women and men was an abomination, which needed to be halted and reversed immediately in the name of God and Country.

The latest murder was that of Sally Rekovic, co-founder of an anti-domestic violence charity which provided shelters to battered women. Her co-founder, Margaret Burns had been killed just a few days earlier in the same manner, mere days after the essay: "Womens Refuges: Sheltering women from injustice, or abandoning them to anarchy" had appeared on the groups website. The article had rambled seemingly endlessly about how the springing up of women's shelters in the city was allowing women to escape the 'rightful authority' of their husbands, and wrongfully paying credence to their feelings that men did not have the right to hurt them.

Olivia hadn't managed to make it through the entire document, it seemed Vander had an insatiable passion for the subject. They had made the link to the website after the second murder, but only managed to get a collar for the fifth. Colin Hamilton was a prominent member of M.I.T.P., and had been spotted dumping Rekovic's body. But unfortunately, like Casey had said, their only witness was a drug addict who was presently in the process of trying to start a church in the name of another homeless man named Bill who happened to be in possession of rather a lot of facial hair.

"I'm going to ask El to go in there and tell him he can leave," Casey said, reaching for her phone.

"He was in with the Captain Case, I think he might be a while." Olivia said. Casey let the phone clunk back into the receiver.

"Dammit. I don't want to have to see the look on his face when we tell him he's free to go," Casey growled, "you know, when I was trying to discuss a deal with him, he told me that I was not to speak to him without addressing him as sir, and insisted that we bring a _male _ADA over to speak with him as, since I am, and I quote 'an inferior being', he did not accept my authority to offer him a deal."

Olivia shook her head, "what did you do?"

Casey shrugged, "I didn't have all day, so I just called ADA Carver from the MCS. Plus I was coming close to killing the guy."

"Would have saved Elliot the trouble." Olivia said. She and Elliot had been questioning Hamilton when he launched a particularly disgusting tirade against Olivia. He had been lucky that the glass window in the interview rooms were reinforced, as it was, he only hit it and slid down instead of flying right through as Elliot had perhaps intended.

Of course that meant the IAB, Hamilton's lawyer, and soon probably the press were all going to stampede in on Stabler in a manner which put Olivia in mind of the scene in the Lion King in which Mufasa, Simba's father and the previous King of African Pride Lands, is trampled by a horde of hapless, frightening wildebeest.

*A scolds bridle is a locking metal mask that contains a tab which fits into the mouth to inhibit speech. It was used as punishment on women who spoke out of turn in Victorian Age Britain.


	4. Games

**A/N Sorry this is going a bit slow, still writing the other story and all. Thanks for the reviews, keep um coming, even if its just so I know you're still reading and my sucky writing hasn't driven you away (made even more sucky by my using sucky as an adjective!) Oh, and if anyone could tell me how I can stop my stories turning entirely italicised and underlined when I upload them (major pain in the ass when I need to hunt through and re italicise anything I had italicised for emphasis) I would be very much obliged!**

_Chapter: Games_

A WEEK AND SIX DAYS LATER

A BASEMENT SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK

It happened in a flash, literally.

In the dimness of basement, a the muzzle of a gun lit up, and then Olivia was down. Elliot released Casey abruptly and turned to see Colin Hamilton in the empty doorway, arm outstretched, revolver in hand. Then he felt a gun press to the back of his own head and heard the unmistakable click of the hammer being thumbed.

"Drop it Hamilton, or I'll blow his head off," Somewhere in the chaos, maybe when he'd spun to check on Liv, Casey had managed to relieve him of his sidearm and now had it levelled at the back of his head. He knew she was bluffing, but he was still a little uncomfortable with Casey holding a gun on him. Mostly because he knew she had no idea how to use one, and was therefore liable to shoot him by complete accident if the situation got sketchy again.

Hamilton snorted a laugh, "no you won't."

"She will," Olivia muttered from the floor. Elliot dared another look at her. Hamilton had caught her in the left calf, she was lying in a crumpled heap, deep red blood ebbing out, soaking into her jeans and forming a glossy pool on the poured concrete floor. It looked gruesome, but at least it wasn't fatal.

"I will," Casey repeated, but her voice was shaky. Elliot closed his eyes.

"No. You won't." Hamilton said, taking a step further into the room. This was useless. Hamilton didn't believe that the ADA had the guts to shoot him, and even if he did, Hamilton still bore a heavy grudge against Stabler for nearly pitching him through the viewing window at the squad room. He would probably welcome the sight of Elliot's brain matter splattered against the dull grey walls of the basement.

"Elliot, take the gun off her, she's not going to do anything." Hamilton said.

"That's easy for you to say, you're not the one with the gun to his head." Elliot said, keeping his hands raised.

"Elliot, don't be such a woman." Hamilton spat derogatively. When he saw Elliot was still not going to make a move, he rolled his eyes and aimed his revolver at Liv, who was still on the floor. "All right Casey, give Elliot the gun now or I shoot your little buddy here."

"Don't do it Casey, you know they're gonna kill us anyway if we stay here!" Olivia coached. Elliot wished he could see Casey right now.

"Now!" Hamilton barked, jerking his gun toted arm toward Olivia. Elliot felt the pressure from the gun on the back of his neck disappear.

Hamilton smiled, "Now who's a good girl?" He asked in a ridiculously condescending tone. Elliot turned robotically to Casey, and reluctantly took the gun, which she held limply at her side. He heard the sickening crack of metal against bone behind him, then Hamilton said,

"Knock her out too, I think we've got some rope somewhere abouts…" Casey already had her eyes squeezed shut when he turned back to her and brought his elbow up to connect swiftly with her chin. She slumped to the floor and Elliot wondered if it had taken that little to knock her out, or if she was faking it.

A WEEK AND FIVE DAYS EARLIER

THE APARTMENT OF ADA CASEY NOVAK

Elliot woke up, head fuzzy. The curtains were still drawn, and there wasn't even light gleaming at the edges, meaning he was up before sunrise again. He let out a grumpy moan, for his own benefit, because when he reached his arm out across the bed, he found he was predictably alone.

An unfortunate side affect of being a cop was that once he was awake, he was awake and that was it. He reluctantly clambered out of bed, pulling on a pair of boxers and ambling into the kitchen, finding Casey showered, dressed; simultaneously making waffles for breakfast and reading over some court documents. He walked over to her at the cooker, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning his head heavily on her shoulder.

"I wondered why documents sent over from you always have syrup on them." He said, kissing her cheek lightly. She wriggled out of his grasp, prompting him to give her an overly sad pout. She smiled at his silly gesture before obliging him with quick kiss on the lips. Unwilling to let her leave proximity, Elliot placed his hands firmly on her face, pulling her close and slipping his tongue into her mouth, gently teasing hers. She reciprocated for a second before breaking free again.

"You're gonna make me burn the waffles," She scolded, returning her attentions to the pan. Elliot reached around her, turning off the stove.

"Problem solved." He said, grabbing Casey by her waist and lifting her up onto the countertop, sliding her to the edge, wrapping her legs around his waist, "my, this is a convenient height." He smiled amorously. Casey opened her mouth to protest, but Elliot immediately covered it with his, silencing her. He moved down to her neck, delighting as he heard her breath hitch when he nipped playfully.

"Stop it," She protested less than vigorously, not making any physical attempt to stop him.

"I will as soon as you stop enjoying it," He whispered wickedly, trailing kisses down her chest, stopping where her blouse prevented further access.

"Elliot, I'm already dressed for work," She complained, in a breathy tone which suggested he had already won the battle.

"That's easily remedied," he smiled. He hoped this would work. He caught a thumb in the top of her blouse, and brought it down sharply, unfastening all but the last button. "Dammit!" He cursed. He'd even been practising, not that he'd tell Casey that.

"So near, yet so far." He heard, but unfortunately, it wasn't Casey talking. He turned to see Olivia snickering in the doorway. Elliot sighed with frustration. It seemed his partner had developed an 'Elliot's gonna get some' sensor and was insistent on using it to ensure he didn't. He helped Casey, who was quickly refastening her blouse, off the counter. Olivia had ducked out of the room and called back in,

"Sorry guys, I didn't mean to walk in on you…I just assumed that you wouldn't be in the kitchen…"

Casey shot Elliot an embarrassed glare, and followed Olivia out of the kitchen, "Don't worry Liv, we weren't um…Elliot was just helping me with the waffles…do you want waffles?" she blurted out disjointedly.

Olivia laughed at the flustered ADA, "My, my, I never thought I'd see the day, the unflappable Casey Novak, struggling for words."

Casey couldn't help but think back to the last time she was lost for words, which caused her to flush an even deeper shade of red…


	5. The weight of the world

**A/N Ok, hope the time jump isn't getting confusing! Just to clarify, the first two sections of this chapter (headed 'NYPD GYM' and 'ELLIOTS APARTMENT') are set a month before the beginning of the story, which is two weeks before the second time line. If you just read it, it should make sense!**

**Oh, and in the gym scene, I didn't state any actual weights because I have no idea what normal people can lift, as I have the upper body strength of a hamster (seriously, I struggle with 6kg dumbbells at the gym!).**

**And keep the reviews coming, love it! I promise to update this faster when I have finished the other story, though I might actually start another one, this time based around Olivia, cause an idea just popped into my head about it the other day. Anyway, enough preamble…**

Chapter Five: The weight of the world

ONE MONTH, TWO WEEKS AND TWO DAYS PRIOR

THE NYPD GYM

Casey was perturbed with Elliot for forcing her to trapeze around the whole precinct looking for him.

If he had the nerve to keep her in the office after hours pleading with judges to secure a subpoena, for which their evidence was iffy at best, he could at least keep his cell phone on him so when she finally found a judge either too busy to look at it before signing it, or who was as desperate as she was to leave the office close to on time as she was, she would be able to present it to him with minimum hassle. Casey was going to murder him then turn herself in to the nearby homicide division if he had left for the day.

The bullpen was empty, spare one John Munch, who Casey was beginning to suspect actually lived in the office. Casey couldn't remember ever not seeing him there. He'd told her she might want to look for the other Detective in the precincts gymnasium. She had followed up on his lead and was glad to find Elliot, benching what looked like several times his own sizable body weight.

"Detective, I've got your subpoena, if that's all then I'll be…"

Elliot set the weight down with a clunk and sat up abruptly. "How much can you bench counsellor?" He interrupted, in a playful tone.

Casey had absolutely no idea how much she could bench press, she did like to keep fit, but she preferred jogging. She had never been one for pumping iron. She fired off a number at random that sounded about right. Elliot actually laughed out loud,

"Bullshit!" He said, looking Casey up and down in undisguised appraisal. Casey crossed her arms, feeling self-conscious under his unabashed gaze,

"Want a bet?" Casey asked, giving him a cocky smile. Elliot got to his feet, gesturing to the bench.

"Be my guest." He said, calling her bluff. Casey stopped for a moment, wondering whether to go through with this. He seemed incredulous, which indicated she must have overestimated at least a little. Still, she could hit a softball pretty far. It was worth a try, and Elliot's mischievous grin was hard to resist. Having a crush was not something Casey Novak would ever admit to, she was a grown woman after all, but still, there were times (especially when he was shirtless, as he was now), when she had to remind herself over and over again that he was married. With kids. And even if he wasn't, there was the obvious mutual attraction between he and Olivia, who despite the occasional fireworks, she was just beginning to get along with.

"All right, I'm game." Casey said, handing Elliot the all but forgotten subpoena and shrugging off her fitted suit jacket. Elliot's smirk turned to a full blown teeth baring grin when he caught sight of her now bare arms. Skinny, with only very slight definition. Casey knew she was taking this too far, but she could hardly stop now. She laid flat on the bench, and couldn't help a thick swallow of trepidation as Elliot stacked several large weighted disks onto the barbell above her.

"You still sure about this Counsellor?" He smiled down at her.

"Yep." She said absently. But with Elliot hovering above her, that close, she probably would have agreed to anything.

"Okay, we're good to go," He grinned. Casey unenthusiastically reached up, gripping the barbell, locking her elbows out and closing her eyes. Elliot lifted the weight from the bar rack easily, slowly releasing the burden onto Casey's arms. At first, it seemed she was going to be able to hold it after all, but as Elliot relaxed, and she took the full weight, her arms quickly gave way. Elliot caught it before the bar slammed down onto her chest. He replaced it on the rack, shaking his head.

"_Bull_shit counsellor. Might want to stick to the bars and benches that you're used to," He teased. Casey flexed her now aching arms.

"All right, I may have overestimated a little." She admitted. "You win." She made a move to get up. Though she was reluctant to leave this surprisingly flirtatious encounter with the detective, she had a dinner date to keep with Olivia Benson of all people. Apparently her boyfriend, some journalist called Kurt, had been talking about moving in and she was getting cold feet. Needed to talk it out, but not with Elliot, Olivia had said, for 'obvious reasons' though they didn't seem so obvious to Casey, not that she knew much about Elliot's personal life. Just as her back left the bench, she was surprised to feel a hand on her chest, just below her neck, pushing her back down again.

"Not so fast Casey," Elliot said, leaning close. He had a strange gleam in his eye, "you said I win. So what do I win?" He asked, in a tone Casey dared not think of as suggestive, even though there could be no other interpretation. His hand stayed on her chest, keeping her in place.

"What do you want?" Casey replied, noncommittally. The last thing she needed was to misread the situation and accidentally come on to Elliot if he was just being friendly. Elliot smiled. It had apparently been the right answer. He moved his hand onto her chin,

"This," he whispered, pressing a hard kiss onto her lips. Casey was stunned for a moment, before her mind re-engaged, and she reluctantly pushed him away.

"Elliot, you're married." She managed to blurt out. A look of hurt washed over Elliot's face, but it was gone again in an instant.

"You let me worry about that," He said, returning his lips to hers before she could protest further.

THE APARTMENT OF DETECTIVE ELLIOT STABLER

Elliot marvelled at the sight of Casey Novak fast asleep next to him, in his bed. The moonlight shone through the windows, where he hadn't thought to close the curtains, and it picked out the lighter shades in her copper-blonde hair, and illuminated her thoroughly pale skin. She stirred slightly as he brushed a finger down the delicate bumps of her spine, fascinated.

This certainly wasn't how he'd thought this night would turn out, but he was glad it had. When Elliot was superlatively pissed off, he had a list of things he liked to do to work off the angry energy that always welled up inside of him, and there was a preferred order, that went like this:

1. Angry Sex.

2. Angrily working out until his muscles felt set to collapse.

3. Angrily running around breaking stuff.

Just after he'd finished pestering Casey into going on a judge hunt right at the end of her working day, he had taken a call from Kathy. They were separated, he accepted that, but somewhere, in the back of his head, he'd always thought of it as a temporary thing, Kathy's way of getting a message across. That's why her words had hit him like a steam train.

I've found someone.

She'd said it, just like that. Oh, and she wanted a divorce. Elliot had hung up, without saying another word. He wished he had been numb, but instead, he had wanted to belt his cell phone out the window. Which, incidentally, he did. Which covered number three on his list. It had been rather unsatisfying though, so he had moved onto number two, storming into the gym and lifting weights so heavy they made his head feel like they were going to explode.

With his wife now officially seeing other people, he had thought number one was off the agenda. That is, until Casey Novak had walked into the gym.

He had always found her attractive, but as a married man, he had always registered her prettiness in a perfunctory sort of way. But when she had walked into the gym, he allowed himself to look unchastely for the first time, and he couldn't resist making an attempt on the beautiful young ADA.

To his surprise, she had been more than willing, though his intensity had clearly unnerved her a little, he was sure he'd caught a little bit of fear in her eyes, when he had pinned her wrists at the side of her head, attacking her neck and mouth in such a way that would necessitate her wearing blouse with a high collar tomorrow if she didn't want to illicit raised eyebrows from the entire precinct and her entire office. He felt a touch guilty for being so rough with her, and for falling into bed with her with no thought to whether this was going to lead to anything, but he had needed it so desperately at the time. He hadn't thought about the future, but Elliot figured Casey had was just as guilty as him on that count.

He cuddled up to Casey, trying to push the complicated thoughts out of his head until the morning. At least for tonight, he just wanted to be glad to have someone to sleep next to.

A MONTH, AND TWO WEEKS LATER

A BASEMENT SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK

Casey woke up on the cold concrete floor again, this time with her hands fastened tight behind her back and with the acrid taste of blood in her mouth. She managed to shuffle herself upright and spat vehemently, leaving a deep red splatter of blood next to her. She saw that once again, Liv had beaten her to consciousness and was propped up against a wall, eyes shut fast, working her jaw, probably trying to ignore the pain from her shot leg, which someone had bandaged in the interim.

"I told you your plan sucked." Casey said, licking her badly split lip. She almost wished Olivia had cracked Elliot over the head with the now confiscated fire extinguisher.

"Hindsight is always twenty-twenty counsellor." Olivia said through gritted teeth.

"How's the leg?" Casey asked. She had never been shot herself, but it didn't look like bags of fun.

"I can't believe that sonofabitch shot me." Olivia muttered, trying to move her leg, recoiling from the pain and thinking better of it.

"Sorry, I didn't see him."

"You shouldn't have given Elliot your gun." Olivia said, "Hamilton was bluffing, and besides, with what they've got planned for us? I'd rather they killed me first."

"Don't talk like that, we're gonna get out of this. We always do." Casey said, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

Olivia rolled her eyes, "Case, I don't think we've ever been in quite this situation."

Casey nodded, "Not literally, but legally, we've had our backs against the wall, but we always come out on the other side of it…"

Olivia stifled a laugh, "So what Casey, are you going to just subpoena all their weapons, then issue a protection order so they have to stay away while we make our escape."

"No," Casey frowned hard, "I mean, we have beaten impossible odds."

"Casey, I'm not trying to be negative here, but you need to stop being naïve." Olivia said, slowly, "odds are, we're not getting out of this one, unless Elliot can pull something out of his hat, and if he had an easy out for us, don't you think we'd be free by now."

Casey nodded, biting at her already damaged lip as Olivia's reality check set in.

"I want you to make a pact with me Casey." Olivia said, sombre, "and that is, we are not giving them the satisfaction of breaking us down. I'd rather die with my pride intact then go like all those victims did. Deal?" Olivia stared at her, and Casey eventually met her determined gaze.

"Deal."


	6. And another makes it six

**A/N Alrighty, this contains spoilers for the episode "Blinded", so no reading if you haven't watched it!**

**Oh, and there is a slight error in the 2nd chapter which I will amend shortly, Casey refers to her Boss as being Branch. This however takes place shortly after Blinded, when McCoy is the DA. Sorry! **

**Secondly, the park and war memorial in this are all made up, because I would have had to do a ton of research to justify one location which is only mentioned once, so it is fictitious.**

**In this section, I will provide some explanation as to why Casey and Olivia are so chummy in this fic, it wasn't just because they are in most fics…all I'm saying for now… and apologies if this is getting confusing on the time scale thingy, even I have to refer back to the timeline I wrote down, which I may need to print soon! Let me know if you're lost though, and I'll attempt to clarify… and reading and reviewing = happy me :-D**

_Chapter Six: And another makes it six..._

FIVE DAYS AND ONE WEEK PRIOR

THE OFFICE OF CAPTAIN DONALD CRAGEN

Cragen watched the news report with an open mouth, and immediately shot to his office door, wrenching it open quickly. He could hear the same news report he had been watching playing out on the squadroom television.

"Liv, I need you to get to the DA's office and pick up…" He started, only to be cut off.

"ADA Novak?" Said Casey, waving to him casually. She was sitting across from Olivia at Elliot Stablers desk, which was vacant in light of his suspension the day before, pending the IAB investigaton.

"Good work," Cragen said, brows furrowing, looking between their resident ADA and the Detective, wondering exactly how she had managed to secure the lawyer so quickly.

The news report he had just watched, reported that the body of ADA Andrea Bassett, the Staten Island SVU Prosecutor, had been found dumped on the stairs of the courthouse. Along with that, just like the last five rape murders they had linked together, the signature video, featuring the victim reading a declaration about male superiority to the camera while accompanied by two ski masked, combat fatigue wearing men, had been delivered to a national news station.

His phone was ringing behind him, and he knew it was the head of the Staten Island SVU team, probably calling to make sure they still had their ADA.

"I was already on my way over here." Casey explained, "needed to drop off some paperwork, but I guess…"

"You're staying right here Casey. Liv, don't let her out of your sight. John, Fin, get over to the crime scene." He headed back into his office and shut the door behind him, leaving his capable team to it.

Casey sat with her arms crossed, looking uneasy.

"Hey, don't worry about it Case, do you really think I'm gonna let anything happen to you? I'll be by your side, twenty-four-seven." Olivia said, squeezing the young lawyers shoulder. Casey batted her hand off.

"Lucky me." Casey announced in a wry tone.

"Hey, you are lucky. Those bastards decided to pick off Bassett first, it could just as easily have been you." Fin said angrily, as he pulled on his jacket. Olivia winced. Novak probably didn't know that Bassett had been the ADA for the Manhattan Vice Squad not so many years ago, back when that was the department Tutuola called home. Olivia hopped to her feet and steered Fin away from the desk.

"Easy Fin, she's probably just shaken up." Olivia said quietly. Fin looked hard into her eyes, a bemused look playing.

"Liv, what's the deal with you and Novak lately?" He asked, "two months ago you nearly had her ass fired for that screw up with the Louisiana rapist, now all of a sudden you're best friends forever." A look of surprise mingled with guilt flashed across her face, so Fin added, "McCoy told John, John told me. Did I miss something?"

Olivia looked back at Casey, who was now pacing awkwardly about the squad room, and wondered if her change in attitude toward the Prosecutor was that obvious.

AROUND A MONTH AND A HALF PRIOR

MACGRAW WAR MEMORIAL, TAPPET PARK, NEW YORK CITY

"Elliot!" Casey called out across the park, even though both he and Olivia were stood there. Casey didn't want to be childish, but she was still smarting from being hauled over the coals by McCoy after Benson had turned her in. Sure, she had abused the power of the DA's office, and not for the first time, but Olivia herself wasn't exactly known for playing it by the book. Hell, if she had given in every time Olivia had come to her with an impassioned plea, she probably would have been fired within months of becoming the squads ADA, not to mention disbarred and maybe even imprisoned.

The bottom line was, Olivia was always badgering her to be more empathetic in her prosecuting of cases. Then the second Casey had let her heart rule her head, Olivia had jumped on her. Not only that, she had used information (about Casey's Ex fiance Charlie) which Casey had shared with her in confidence to prove to McCoy that Casey had thrown the case out of personal guilt.

Sure, Benson had apologized, but Casey wasn't about to let such a big contention between them slide away so quickly. Olivia herself had remained distant and cold since the incident. Elliot on the other hand, seemed to have already forgiven Casey for using him on the stand, and resumed friendship as normal.

"Casey," He greeted warmly, "is that a…" She handed him the blue paper.

"Warrant. Yes. Desecrate at your leisure." She said. The latest victim was a feminist author named Angela Mason, also the recent victim of a blog tirade from M.I.T.P. Founder Nick Vander.

So far the MO matched the two previous rape murders they had also tentatively linked to the chauvinistic group. A tarpaulin covered the body, not far from them. Since the body had been dumped on a burial site for soldiers, by a large war monument, Casey had needed to secure special dispensation to have crime scene crawl all over the site looking for evidence. Elliot strolled off to let loose the crime scene squad, whilst she and Olivia settled into an awkward silence.

"I should go." Casey said, "you guys need anything else?"

"We'll call you if we do Novak." Olivia said curtly, as she followed her partner across the grassy expanse to the now deploying CSU. Casey watched her depart, walking off the opposite, cursing as she caught herself on the protective fence stationed about the monument.

A DAY LATER

THE SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT SQUADROOM

"We got nothing." Elliot sighed, weaving his arms across his broad chest, leaning back from his desk.

"Have we had any progress on the mystery DNA? The blood found on the scene that wasn't our Vic's?" Olivia asked, trying make it sound like an innocent, casual question, even though a trip to the ME's office a day earlier made it the paramount concern in her presently buzzing mind.

Her partner shook his head, "sorry, that's another dead end."

Olivia started, "why?"

"Was one of our own." Elliot explained, "accidental cross contamination."

"Who was it?" Olivia pressed. "I thought they crosschecked all the samples gathered against the DNA of the crime scene team and detectives on site as a matter of course? They checked it off against ours."

Elliot shook his head, "I don't know Liv, whoever did it is at the ME's office now, Warner said she needed to take a swab to exclude them, but apparently that's just procedure, and whoever it was is definitely the owner of our mystery blood sample." Olivia was already on her feet, pulling on her jacket as she headed for the door.

"I'll be back in half an hour, I just need to check something with Warner." Olivia said, leaving her confused partner to wonder what he had said.

TWO MONTHS LATER

A BASEMENT SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK

Olivia had been wriggling at the rope for over an hour when she had finally managed to work the knot loose enough to release her hands. Remembering the camera above them, she kept her hands behind her back. The last thing she needed was for someone to be watching the camera, and stroll in once they saw she had cut herself loose and tie her right back up again. She looked aross at Casey who was leaned against the wall nearby, staring at the ceiling. She studied the Lawyers features carefully, but was startled when Casey said,

"You're doing it again."

"What?" Olivia said, hunching her shoulders, shrugging as thought her hands were still restrained.

"That weird, intense staring thing." Casey said, frowning at the Detective.

"I was just trying to figure something out." Olivia said.

"What?" Casey asked. Olivia rolled her eyes. She should have stuck with the typical 'nothing' answer. Now she had ignited the ADA's curiosity, and Casey was definitely the dog with a bone sort. This wasn't ideal circumstances, but she had kept the secret too long. Besides, if she didn't tell Casey soon, Melinda Warner would. If they ever got out of this basement alive that is, not that she wanted to contemplate that too heavily. She sucked in a breath and began,

"Casey, do you remember about two months ago, when you caught yourself on the barbed wire fence on the Mason crime scene, and your blood accidentally got entered into evidence?"

Casey rolled her eyes, "God, your Captain tore me a new one when he found out. He said I'm not to go prancing around crime scenes with abandon. You'd have thought I was playing Frisbee when I did it. Truth was, I just hadn't looked where I was going and it hadn't even crossed my mind that crime scene would pick it up, and of course, since I wasn't on the list of personnel at the scene, they didn't cross check the sample against my DNA. Don said I had wasted hours of man time.

"You didn't, he was just pissed." Olivia said, "Anyway, the reason I showed up at the ME's office was…" before Olivia could finish, the door swung open, and Elliot entered, quickly closing it behind him. He crouched low in front of the two women.

"All right, Casey, I'm gonna need to take you to speak to Nick Vander. He's going to be spewing it out like a BS volcano but I need you to shut up and take it, are we clear?" He asked. Casey narrowed her eyes at him.

"You gonna split my lip again if I don't?" She asked coolly.

"Casey, I'm so, so sorry. But if I hadn't hit you, Hamilton would have hit you a lot harder. You shouldn't have tried to escape." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"You sure they haven't turned you?" Casey asked.

"You know me better than that." Elliot said, tone unreadable. "Please, trust me. I'll get you out of this, I promise, but you need to trust me."

Olivia looked hard into Elliot's eyes. It was definitely him they were talking to, not some brainwashed shell as she had feared before he had come back.

"Casey, listen to him. Just play along until we get a chance to make a break for it." Olivia said. Casey still looked obstinate.

"Fine." She said, still sounding unsure. Elliot took her by the arm and helped her to her feet. As they exited the room, Elliot leaned close to her ear and whispered,

"Casey, whatever I say, or do when we are in that room with Vander, I swear to God," He gave a pregnant pause, then cleared his throat and said softly "I love you."

Casey shook her head, angry that he would think to utter that declaration at this juncture, "save it." She snapped. She would be damned if she'd forgive him so quickly for breaking her heart.


	7. Pride

**A/N And here's another chapter, that's all I have to say about this one… oh yeah, and review if you have a chance of course… :-D**

_Chapter Seven: Pride_

SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK

Elliot was silent the rest of the way as he guided Casey through the halls. The best she could tell they were in some sort of disused underground bunker, which was just fantastic. Casey knew that no one back in the squad room had tied any such facility to the group M.I.T.P., so it was a damn near certainty that Cragen and the rest of the team had no idea where they were. Casey took some comfort in how long it was taking them to get to their destination though. It was a large facility, somewhere underground in New York. There couldn't be too many places like it. Eventually, Elliot rapped on one of many doors in an expansive, grey hallway. Hamilton opened the door and stepped away, allowing them inside, and Casey found herself face-to-face with the iniquitous Nick Vander. She had only seem him in pictures on the website previously. He shorter in person, just a little shorter than she herself, she noted with internal glee.

"Ah, the lawyer, good choice, might be more malleable." Vander observed. Casey felt a sharp stab of anger. Elliot had been sent to get one of them, not Casey specifically. He had chosen to collect Casey. The night they had broken up, somewhat frivolously and mostly out of anger, she had accused him of having feelings for Olivia. She wondered if this proved that, or if, the more sensible and less jealous part of her brain argued, he had brought her because she did not presently have a bullet lodged in her shank.

"You'll never get away with this." Casey blurted out, regretting it immediately, and feeling like a character out of Scooby-doo.

Vander rolled his eyes and barked, "kneel."

"I prefer to stand actually." Casey said, affecting her best cocky smile. Vander nodded to Elliot, and he took one of her shoulders, pressing down lightly, probably hoping she would oblige. Petulance had always been one of her biggest weaknesses though, and besides, she had made a pact with Olivia. She was going to hang on to her dignity, so far as it was possible. She shrugged Elliot's hand off roughly.

"Do as you're told, or you'll be sorry." Elliot whispered loudly into her ear. To Vander it sounded like a command. To Casey it sounded like a plea. Casey turned and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Go fuck yourself Elliot." She said calmly. Elliot's face turned passive and he placed his hands on both her shoulders, pushing her to her knees roughly. Her knee caps stung like hell through her jeans, but she felt a strange sense of satisfaction that she had not given in and knelt herself. She was hopeful that it felt like a hollow victory to Vander.

"Much better," Vander said, glaring down at her. Casey held his gaze. "the sooner you accept that this is your place, the better. Now I'm sure you have seen the videos we have been distributing. Just like the previous women in the videos, you _must _acknowledge your inferiority to the world. You prosecute a crime you call rape. I tell you now, rape is an impossible crime, as no woman has the right to refuse the demands of a man, no matter how distasteful she may find it. The only time a woman may refuse such a demand is if she is married. And then, she must tell her husband, and he will avenge it. Do you acknowledge this?" He asked, leaning down. Casey said nothing, though a thousand epithets were spinning around inside her head. He continued to pace the room,

"Here you are, tied up, on your knees, helpless to defend yourself or escape, yet you _still _refuse to acknowledge that you are the weaker sex, even as the evidence stares you in the face?" He asked incredulously. Casey bit her tongue. Anything she could think to say was only going to make the situation worse, and the thought of just 'going along with it' as Elliot had said made her stomach turn.

"So be it. You obviously need a more _vigorous _lesson." Vander said, waving dismissively. "Hamilton, take this woman to the lower rooms and punish her. Fiercely. She has offended me."

Casey didn't like the sound of that. She glanced up to Elliot, whose expression hadn't changed. Hamilton was smiling wickedly, he pulled her to her feet by her blouse.

"Aw, and I was so hoping it would be Elliot," she threw out there. Elliot shot her a strange, unreadable look. She was mad at Elliot, but at least he would only fake beating her. Casey didn't want to imagine what Hamilton would do to her, especially after how many wiseass comments she had made to him back when the situation was reversed and he was in the custody of the police.

Luckily for Casey, Vander seemed to like the idea, "actually Stabler, I think you should take this one. You might get through to her a little better, plus, you haven't had the pleasure of delivering any such lessons yet."

Elliot looked slightly uncomfortable, "are you sure Chief? I've got some unfinished business back at my place, I need it to look like I'm still around out there or someone's going to notice."

"An hour won't hurt." Vander said. When Elliot still made no move, he added, "I insist."

"All right," Elliot said calmly, taking Casey by the arm and leading her out of the room. Elliot was silent as he took her down a set of stairs, pushing her into a darkened room and shutting the door behind them.

"What were you doing in there Casey?" He growled, stalking about the room like an angry animal.

"Sorry if I didn't want Hamilton to kick the crap out of me!" Casey shot back. Elliot sudden walked her back into the wall, his huge frame eclipsing her view.

"What, and it's better if I have to do it?" He asked, clearly seething. He was physically shaking and his nostrils were flaring violently. Casey swallowed hard.

"What do you mean? You can just fake it." She said, a shakiness entering her voice. Elliot shook his head.

"No, because they are on to me. They are going to check, and if you don't have a mark on you when you walk out of here, not only are they going to kill me, you and Liv are toast too!" He shouted, his breath hot on her face. Casey felt like an idiot. If he could have just faked it, Elliot would have volunteered to be the one doling out the beatings. Now she had landed them both in it.

"I can handle it Elliot," She said gently. Elliot placed a hand on her cheek, brushing a thumb across her face.

"I don't know if I can." He said. She wondered if she could see tears in his eyes, or if his eyes were just watering from his previous heated outburst. She leant forward, touching her forehead to his.

"I'll forgive you. Now lets just get this over with." Casey said, resolutely. Elliot looked into her eyes. Casey decided there should be a law against eyes like Elliot Stablers. Blue like the sky with the power melt resolve from a hundred metres.

"Will you forgive me for everything else?" He asked.

"El, this isn't really the time for a relationship talk." Casey said.

"All right. But I do love you." He said, gently pecking her on the lips. Casey thought he was taking liberties a little, her still restrained, but she didn't complain. He took a step back and cracked his knuckles. Casey jumped at the sound.

TWO MONTHS EARLIER (just after Olivia left for the ME's office)

THE OFFICE OF MELINDA WARNER, MEDICAL EXAMINER

Olivia rushed into the ME's office, mind racing as she hurried to Melinda Warner's office. She was surprised to find that Casey Novak was already there, possibly about evidence on another case.

"Hey, Melinda, could I have a word?" Olivia asked. Warner looked at Casey then back at Olivia pointedly.

"I was just telling Casey about the DNA at the scene…" Warner started, but Casey cut her off.

"Detective, it was my DNA at the scene. I cut myself on a fence, I didn't think to report it until Elliot asked how I hurt my hand. I know I've wasted everyone's time, and I'm sorry." She reeled off, almost automatically. Olivia looked across at Warner, her mouth hanging open.

"Are you sure?" She asked. Warner nodded,

"I'm going to run Casey's DNA against just to make sure it's a _match_, but that's just procedure. We're pretty sure." Warner said. Casey looked between the two, obviously sensing that a conversation she was not privy to was being held between the lines.

"What's going on here?" The Blonde prosecutor snapped, creasing her neat brows warily. Olivia fidgeted with the lapels of her leather jacket, pinning Warner with an imploring look.

"Nothing." Warner said.

"Nothing." Olivia repeated. Casey looked at them both, and, probably realising she wasn't going to get any more out of them, stood up.

"Fine. I'm leaving for the day. My cell is on as always if you need anything." She said as she strolled out the door.

Olivia slumped down into Warners other office chair once Casey was gone, shell-shocked.

"Oh my god." She said softly.

"Those were my exact words," Warner said.


	8. And that's what really hurts

**A/N Okay, so I borrowed more characters from Dick Wolf. So sue me. Actually, please don't :-S!!**

**Anyhoo, Christina Finn is borrowed from Conviction and Serena Southerlyn from original Law and Order. I felt Casey aught to go out and have some fun, since she never gets to in the series!**

_Chapter Eight: And that's what really hurts..._

A MONTH LATER (The day the sixth victim, ADA Andrea Bassett was found)

THE SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT SQUAD ROOM

It was pitch dark outside and the squad room had taken on it's eerie evening ambiance.

All Casey was focused on was the red glow of the LCD clock on Elliot's desk which she was currently occupying. She had made plans weeks ago for a night out and was getting increasingly annoyed at Olivia's refusal to let her leave the office. Olivia had temporarily departed to some non-specific location, and Casey was seriously considering slipping out whilst she had the chance. She feigned a yawn, rising to her feet slowly. She could see Cragen at his desk, through the blinded glass wall to his office. He was occupied on a phone call. Munch and Tutuola were both engrossed in paperwork.

This was her chance, Casey picked up her coat, but no sooner had she slipped her arms into the sleeves, John Munch had appeared at her side.

"Going somewhere?" He asked casually.

"I was just gonna head back to my apartment, I have…stuff to do." Casey said. Munch's crested, owl-like eyebrows rose in response to her ambiguity. He remained stood between her and the coveted exit.

"I think it would be best if you waited until Olivia got back," Munch said, glancing about the room, trying to spot the missing brunette detective.

"I left her a message." Casey said, gesturing to the hastily scrawled yellow post it note stuck to Olivia's phone. Munch was silent, but didn't seem like budging. As much as she could appreciate their concern, especially with what had happened, or nearly happened in reality, to their previous ADA, Alex Cabot (hell, she herself has been apprehensive about stepping into a role where her predecessor had been assassinated) she resented being babysat.

"There she is," Munch nodded, unbarring the way too late, now that Olivia had returned.

"Hey Case, hope you aren't getting too bored." She said, sitting down at her desk and slapping a sizable new stack of documents onto what was already a mountain. Olivia wasn't going to be leaving the office for a long time. Casey looked at her feet and cleared her throat deliberately. She felt like a teenager again, asking her Mom if she could go out late with her friends. She being an only child, her parents, and especially her Mom had been very protective of her. She was always the one with the earliest curfew who missed all the exciting, end of the night events, and who was often subject to the embarrassment of being collected from her friends houses by her father, even thought she could drive.

"About that Liv, I kind of have plans tonight…" Casey said.

"With Elliot?" Olivia asked.

"No, with some friends from college and the DA's office, we had a night out planned..."

Olivia shook her head, "you'll have to cancel it Case. It's not safe out there." Olivia often forgot that Casey was quite significantly the baby of the SVU outfit, late twenties where everyone else had closed their fortieth at least and some were further north. She was the right age for it, but the idea of Casey stumbling out of some club, trollyed with only a bunch of giggling lawyers for protection struck her as exceedingly dangerous.

"I've had it planned for weeks." Casey whined, having seemingly regressed ten years. "Besides, I'll keep safe. And I'll catch a cab straight back."

Olivia, for once, was glad she didn't have kids, this was hard, "Casey, I can't let you go." The Lawyer looked a little put out. Then she furrowed her brows.

"I'm going Liv. I'll have my cell phone on, and I'll not stay out too late." Casey seemed to have remembered she was an adult with the right to do exactly as she pleased. Olivia relented,

"Fine. But know that Cragen is going to have my ass when he finds out I let you go. And I'll pick you up, just call me when you're ready to go home." Olivia said. Casey seemed to be thinking.

"Okay." Casey said, agreeing to the compromise.

"Good. Now get going before the Captain sees you." Olivia said to Casey's already departing back.

THE APARTMENT OF ADA CASEY NOVAK

It only took Liv a couple of hours to finish up the reports she needed to file, even though she had extra work landed on her by Elliot's suspension. Don had predictably ticked her off for allowing Casey out, before agreeing that if Casey really wanted to endanger her life, there was no way to stop her. Still, that didn't stop a sense of unease from settling in the Bullpen after she had left, everyone jumping when they answered their phones, just in case it was the same call their Staten Island counterparts had gotten mere hours ago.

She had driven quickly to Casey's apartment after. She pulled up and saw that the light was on in Casey's apartment. She un-holstered her sidearm before cautiously proceeding up the stairs, finding the door locked, she took her spare key and opened the door slowly, peeking inside and seeing no one, and nothing out of place. She held the gun up at shoulder height, and cautiously snuck inside. There, she spotted an intruder, at least the back of his head as he sat on the couch.

Olivia returned her gun to its holster.

"Nice awareness Elliot." She said, loudly on purpose, causing her partner to visibly rise from the chair in shock.

"Liv?!" He said, turning round. She couldn't hide a smile.

"Where's Casey? I saw on the news…" Elliot said, his eyes full of worry. Olivia bit her lip. She hadn't reckoned on having to tell Elliot that she had let his girlfriend skip off into the night. Then again, she had figured if Casey was going out for the night, she would need to swing by her apartment anyway to get dressed, and was half hoping Elliot would have stopped her at that point.

"We had her in the squad room, but then she left to meet some friends." Olivia said. He words hung awkwardly between them, and Olivia realised why it was a bad idea to date someone you work with. It didn't just change things between the two parties involved.

"Where?" Elliot asked.

Olivia shrugged, "I don't know, I didn't ask, she's a grown up El, she can look after herself." Elliot shot Olivia an angry glare then pulled out his cell phone and hit C in the phonebook.

A WEEK AND FIVE DAYS LATER

AN UNDERGROUND ROOM SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK

"Okay, let's get this done with." Elliot muttered gruffly. "Turn around." Casey turned slowly, turning her back to Elliot. He untied Casey's hands, she rubbed at her chafed wrists once they were freed. "Alright, turn around again." He said. His voice was flat, void of emotion or inflection. Casey turned to face him, his eyes were lost. He was looking at her, but it was as thought he was looking straight through to the wall behind. Without warning, he took hold of her collar and his fist slammed into her ribs. Casey had wanted to play down any pain, try to make it as easy for Elliot as possible, and not make him feel any worse for what he was having to do. But she couldn't help it, his fist felt like concrete, and her ribs felt like they had shattered under the impact, though she knew they hadn't, there hadn't been the telltale cracking sound. She let out a painful yelp and Elliot immediately released her. Casey wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to settle her breathing.

"I'm so sorry," Elliot whispered. Before he could continue, the door swung open.

"Stabler." Hamilton greeted, "Vander sent me down to supervise." He looked at Casey's pained expression and gave a sick smile. "By all means, carry on."

Elliot's expression immediately morphed to one of fake amusement, "Vander will be glad to know she is being a lot more cooperative."

Casey looked up at him, "go to hell." She ground out, doing her best to play along. Elliot slapped her, splitting her already damaged lip again. It smarted, but it sounded a lot worse than it felt.

"Shut up," Elliot growled, grabbing her chin in his hand.

"Hey Stabler, you might need to borrow this." Hamilton said from behind him. Elliot released Casey and turned to see Hamilton holding out his leather belt.

"Thanks," Elliot said, in the same flat tone he'd been using earlier. He folded it in half in his hand, then cracked it violently against the wall. Casey couldn't help but start at the sound.

A WEEK AND FIVE DAYS PRIOR

THE RESCUE ROOMS, NEW YORK CITY

"No Chris! One of my New Year's resolutions was to never again drink anything out of a test tube!" Casey protested as her old college roommate, Christina Finn offered her some sort of neon blue coloured Vodka based concoction.

"Come on Caseeey!" Said Serena Southerlyn, who Casey knew from back when she worked at the DA's office, who happened to already be absolutely hammered. They had gone to a show, it was a local band, so the venue had been cramped, and the sound quality had been crap, but it had been just what Casey needed to shake off the events of the day. They had now moved on to the bar next door to the show venue, and were all shouting, their ears still ringing from the gig. The music was loud enough that Casey could feel the bass thudding in her chest. Casey reluctantly drank the shot, blinking hard when she could feel the alcohol burn in her sinuses.

"Hi five!" Christina yelled over the cacophony, slapping Casey's palm with her own. The bar they were at wasn't the classiest place in the world, it was dark, and not deliberately, with old posters from months ago, remaining on the wall, never removed, just covered instead by new ones, and it wasn't the kind of place you would ever want to visit sober. However it played excellent music, and when you were sufficiently drunk, it could seem astounding. Right now_, Just_ was playing, Casey's personal favourite Radiohead song. Chris let out a yip of excitement and wrapped an arm around Casey and Serena's shoulders, singing along loudly to the repetitive chorus.

"You do it to yourself, you do, and that's what really hurts…" they yelled in unison. Being the sort of bar that it was, they could get away with their tuneless overture without being kicked out. Which was exactly why Casey and her friends liked to go there. Once the song was over, they even got a little round of applause from a few nearby tables. Serena hopped up from the table and did a clumsy curtsy. Christina and Casey were too busy laughing with embarrassment.

"I'm not drunk enough to be here." Casey announced.

"What?!" Chris yelled.

"Easily fixed!" Serena said, "my round, I'lls be back!" She said, tottering off.

"Alright Case, spill, who is the new mystery man?" Chris asked. Casey had let on that she was seeing someone, which had been a mistake, Serena and Chris had been trying to wrangle a name out of her all night.

"A secret!" Casey said, giving her an evil grin. Casey had to admit, she was enjoying the secrecy surrounding her relationship with Elliot, and the furious curiosity it elicited from others.

"I know it's someone from the office…It's just a simple matter of elimination!" Chris announced. By then, Serena had returned from the bar with three tall glasses, each topped with a small paper umbrella.

"I'm no even going to ask what this is…" Casey said, trying to change the subject.

"Oh my god. It's John Munch isn't it!" Serena said suddenly, she had apparently caught the backend of their conversation.

Casey frowned, "Hell no, he's old enough to be my dad. Hell, he's older than my dad!"

Christina drummed her fingers on the table, taking a sip of the beverage Serena had acquired for them and grimacing, "woah, um…I'm gonna say, who's that other guy?"

"Lenny Briscoe!" Serena announced loudly, punching the air for no apparent reason, other than her current inebriation.

Casey shook her head again, "give me some credit. You'd think I went to the local care home to score dates the way you two are guessing." She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket again. She had been ignoring it, enjoying herself far too much to field calls from worried co-workers. She took the phone from her pocket to check the caller ID, only to have it appropriated by Serena, who looked at the screen. Her mouth fell open,

"Oh my god! Elliot Stabler?!"

Chris looked shocked too, "Stabler, with the blue eyes and the big arms from the 1-6?"

Casey was about to defend herself, but she knew her face had already given it away. "Ok, caught. Now give my phone back Southerlyn!"

"Yeah, wouldn't want you to miss another call from Elliot!" Serena said. "My god, this gossip is so good it makes me wish I still worked at the DA's office!"

Casey decided to try whatever strange cocktail Serena ordered. It tasted like it was at least halfway vodka, but she kept drinking. She was allowed to get drunk once in a while, and besides, she could call Elliot later, once she was back at her apartment. Another song they all loved came on and this time it was Casey that started the sing/shout along.

A WEEK AND FIVE DAYS LATER

A UNDERGROUND ROOM SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK

There was one way this was going to work, and that was Elliot had to get mad. Casey looked obstinate, but he couldn't quell the sick feeling of guilt that was rising from his stomach as he watched a drop of blood from her cut lip roll down the side of her chin. He could feel Hamilton's eyes burning into him, and he knew if he didn't get started soon, not only would Hamilton make him as a traitor, he would most likely take over and beat Casey within an inch of her life. Elliot doing it himself was the lesser of two evils, for her at least, but still, he found himself frozen.

"Need a hand?" Hamilton asked from behind him. The mans voice made his blood boil, but that could be a good thing. He could use that.

"Of course I don't," He snapped at Hamilton, turning Casey to face the wall with his empty hand, roughly tugging her open button down shirt off her arms, then he tugged the hem of her grey vest.

"Take it off," He barked at Casey. She glanced nervously back over her shoulder at him, then hesitantly stripped her vest off, leaving her in a lacy black bra. He took the vest from her hand and cast it off into the corner. He put a hand on the back of her neck, pressing her chest first against the wall. He tried to steady his heart which was thudding like a mallet against his breastbone. Her shoulders looked impossibly smooth and small, and her body felt immensely breakable under his heavy hands.

He thought back to all the times his own Father had taken off his belt and beaten him with it, the pain, though at first only a subtle sting, would slowly built up to an agonizing crescendo, where each fall of the belt felt like it was going to slash him in half.

Elliot could feel himself begin to shake.

Casey wondered if Elliot was aware the waiting was killing her.

She couldn't see him, but she knew her skin was bared to him and he was holding a thick leather belt. It didn't take much imagination to guess what was going to come next, but Elliot was paused, hand stationed on the back of her neck, holding her still.

Then it happened, strangely enough, she heard the sound before she felt the pain. A sharp, snapping sound. Then she felt the sting, cold the way a burn feels at first across her back. Then came another. And another. It seemed Elliot was getting into the swing of it, and Casey braced herself, trying not to make a sound. She didn't want to give Hamilton the pleasure, but the leather seemed to be biting harder into her skin with every lash.

"Hey Stabler, try the other way around," She heard Hamilton call out from somewhere behind. Elliot stopped for a moment, but when he started again, she felt the cold metal buckle cut into her already tender skin. She couldn't suppress a cry of pain, but Elliot didn't stop.

A WEEK AND FIVE DAYS PRIOR

OUTSIDE THE RESCUE ROOMS, NEW YORK CITY

It had just gone three in the morning, but Casey only know that because the bar was closing and she and her friends were being ushered out into the night, all laughing inanely at the fact that they had forgotten what they were laughing about in the first place.

"Hey, lets all go over to my place, I don't live frar form here!" Serena rambled ineloquently, gesturing in a random direction. Casey looked around in wonder. The New York City lights had a certain awe factor when you were inebriated. Casey was about to agree to Serena's plans when she foggily remembered her promise to Olivia.

"Ah shit, I can't. Curfew." She said, pulling her cell from her jacket pocket. She stared at the screen, frustrated that it was blurring in front of her eyes. She definitely had new messages, but they could wait until morning to be read. She held down Olivia's speed dial button and waited for her to pick up.

"Casey?" Came the answer.

"Hey Liv," Casey answered.

"Where the hell are you? Elliot and I have been trying to call you for hours!" Casey tried to hold in a giggle, but failed, setting off the other two aswell, who were at either side of her, listening to the call.

"I'm outside a bar called the rescue rooms in New York." Casey said.

"Are you drunk?" Olivia asked, even over the phone, her voice sounded thick with judgement.

Chris promptly stole Casey's phone, and, being extremely drunk and knowing nothing of Olivia's past, shouted, "your moms drunk!" Casey cringed at the major faux paus and swiped the phone back, covering the speaker.

"Chris! Her moms dead and was an alcoholic!" She half whispered. Chris covered her mouth, eyes wide.

"Oh my god, sorry!" She tried to shout down the phone, but Casey held the phone out of her reach this time.

"Friends of yours?" Olivia asked, voice even.

"Yeah, sorry Liv, Chris is a little drunk." Casey said, face still burning even in the cold winter air.

"Allright, get me an address and I'll be right over. Stay there with your friends until I get you, you hear me?"

"Of course," Casey said, and began to give Olivia the full address.

THE APARTMENT OF ADA CASEY NOVAK

Olivia wrote down the address, and once she was certain the ADA was going to stay put, she rushed to put her jacket on, eager to get out the door before Elliot noticed she was heading out. She didn't want to take Elliot along for the ride. He was mad as hell at both her and Casey, and she didn't plan on getting into the middle of their domestic. She would drop Casey off at her apartment with Elliot, then high-tail it back to her own apartment before things kicked off. The last thing she needed was to be made to pick sides between Casey and Elliot.

Not now that she didn't honestly know where her loyalties aught lie.

She managed to get out of the building and fire up her car without Elliot noticing she had left. As she drove to the address Casey had furnished her with, she couldn't help but think how similar Casey's mother had sounded on the phone when she had called her last week.


	9. Domestics and disappearances

**A/N Ok, haven't got much to say on this chapter, except review if ya get the chance, always good to know what people are thinking…**

_Chapter Nine: Domestics and disappearances_

OLIVIA BENSONS CAR, MANHATTAN DISTRICT OF NEW YORK

Olivia picked up all three lawyers, dropping off Casey's two friends at their respective apartments before driving back to Casey's place. Casey sat in the back seat, conspicuously silent, eyes set to the window.

She didn't want to give Casey a hard time about this, there were times when she wished she could just forget all about her job and go out and have a damn good time with abandon. But they didn't have any normal job, and with the murder of ADA Bassett literally hours ago, her actions weren't just irresponsible, they were downright dangerous.

"You do realize you would have been an easy target for M.I.T.P. Nick Vander's last editorial was a tirade against the governments treatment of rape cases, then a sex crimes ADA shows up dead. You better believe you're on their radar." Olivia said. Casey glanced at her in the rearview then away again. "Casey going out tonight was a bad idea. Getting drunk was just idiotic."

"I'm not drunk." Casey snapped. Olivia had to admit, Casey was good at feigning sobriety. But Olivia knew how to spot the little signs. She'd had to learn that young, if she wanted to stay out of trouble.

"Bull Casey." Olivia replied. The other woman stayed silent. "El's at your apartment. Don't expect him to be a happy camper when we arrive back."

"Olivia, it was my choice to go out tonight, I took the risk, no one else." Casey said in a level tone.

"Casey there are people who care about you, but I guess you didn't give that a second thought, did you?" Olivia snapped back.

"You mean Elliot?" Casey said. The words hung between the two. Olivia was sorely tempted to blurt out what she knew, that would certainly end the argument. But she knew better than that, she couldn't use it just to win a stupid argument, which was only getting heated because one party involved was far less than sober, however much she was trying to hide it.

"Yeah, I mean Elliot." Olivia sighed, parking outside Casey's apartment building. "I'll see you to the door." She said, following Casey who was already alighting from the vehicle.

THE APARTMENT OF ADA CASEY NOVAK

Elliot was incensed when he found the note on the coffee table from Olivia. She had gone to collect Casey without him, though in his current state, she could see why his partner wouldn't want him for company. He paced his girlfriends apartment, consciously tempering his anger. The last thing he needed to do was put one of her windows out. That might cause more than a little friction in their still budding relationship.

Still, Casey was managing to do that herself. Sure, he could forgive her for being stubborn enough to go out despite imminent threat to her life, but not even answering her phone?

He heard the lock turn over and her headed into the Living room, finding Casey locking the door behind her, expression more than a little sheepish. Olivia was conspicuously absent.

"Where's Liv?" He asked, conversationally. Casey shot him a surpringly evil glare.

"How did I guess that would be the first question you'd ask." She muttered, pacing over to the couch and flopping down. Elliot followed her, taking a seat. "She went home."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Elliot asked, doing his best to remain calm. Sat this close to Casey, he noted that her eyes had a telltale glossiness, and she looked drowsy. She had definitely been drinking.

"Nothing." She muttered, shuffling away from him on the sofa.

Elliot decided to get down to business, "what the hell were you thinking Casey, my teenage daughters are more responsible…"

Casey cut in, "I don't need this right now El, Olivia's already given me the lecture on the way over here. Besides, I'm not one of your kids."

"You're sure acting like one! You could have been kidnapped Casey, or worse, and we wouldn't have known where to start looking for you, the least you could have done was tell Olivia where you were going…"

"She didn't ask." Casey shrugged.

"Don't give me that!" Elliot yelled. Casey didn't flinch. "I've been worried sick."

"Elliot, I do not owe Olivia an explanation, I'm an adult, I can do what I want."

Elliot shook his head, "don't you think you owed me one?"

"What, because you're screwing me?" Casey said cocking a challenging eyebrow at him.

"Don't talk like that." Elliot growled.

"What then El?" Casey asked. "Every time I bring it up you change the subject! What are we doing here? Am I your girlfriend or just a convenient place to stay when Kathy kicks you out?"

"Kathy and I are over, you know that!" Elliot yelled, moving closer to Casey. She held his gaze, eye narrowing. He made an effort to slow his breathing.

"Fine." Casey said. "I guess I'm just a poor substitute for Olivia then."

Elliot had enough, "yeah Casey, that's it. You're just a good fuck. A nice little diversion until I can get back with Kathy or into my partners pants." He yelled. He knew he this was not the sort of conversation he should be having with the ADA while she was drunk, but she had pissed him off. The whole day, sitting at home waiting for the goddamn IAB to decide his fate, then waiting, heart in his throat, for hours to hear back from Casey, worried sick, only for her to show up at nearly four in the morning, drunk as hell and with a bee in her bonnet. She had hurt him with her accusations, and he was just firing back. Though it seemed he had fired back too harshly. Casey stared at him, tears welling up.

"Get out of my apartment." She said, voice catching.

"I'm sorry Casey, I didn't mean that." He said, back-pedalling. But the damage was done.

"Get out, now." Casey said, getting up from the couch and wrenching the door open.

"If I go, don't expect me to come back." Elliot said. Casey shrugged. "fine." He said, steaming out and hearing the door slam shut behind him.

THE NEXT DAY

THE OFFICE OF DOCTOR GEORGE HUANG

Working in New York for as long as he had, there wasn't much left that surprised George Huang. But as he sat at his desk, reading over the document that Detective Olivia Benson had just handed him, he had to admit, he was shocked.

"Have you had Melinda double check this?"

Olivia nodded sadly from the other side of his desk. "Yeah. I made her run it three times. I thought she was going to kick me out of the lab."

"All right. Any thoughts about what you're going to do about this?" Huang asked, placing the manila folder down on his desk.

"That's kind of why I'm here." Olivia said, giving him a tight smile.

"Olivia, I can't tell you what to do here. Does any one else know?" He asked.

"No, just you and Melinda." Olivia answered. She looked like she hadn't been getting much sleep. He would have suggested relaxation tapes or other therapy to the detective, had he not a thousand times previously, and always been met with polite refusal. Olivia was someone who dealt with things her own way. Which was why he was surprised that she had brought this to him at all.

George knotted his fingers together and considered his answer carefully, "Olivia, I can't tell you what to do, all I can suggest is that you think about whether or not you'd want to know, if you were in Casey's shoes."

"I have no idea." Olivia said.

"I think you have a better insight on this then I ever could, but Casey strikes me as a very ordered person. She has shown time and again that she likes issues to be black and white, and when the waters get muddy, she becomes uncomfortable." Huang said. Olivia seemed to be weighing it up.

"Thanks George. I'll let you know what I decide to do."

THE SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT SQUADROOM

Olivia arrived back in the squad room, glad to see Casey stationed at Elliot's desk. The Captain had requested that McCoy have enough of Casey's office transferred over to the squadroom, so that Casey could do her days work under the watchful eye an entire building full of law enforcement officers. McCoy had been quick to agree, either keen to avoid one of his ADA's being snatched, or keen to avoid having his office populated by concerned police detectives all day.

"Liv, about yesterday," Casey started Olivia took the seat opposite her.

"It's fine Casey, you'd had a little too much to drink, and I was worried. How was Elliot?" She added in a low voice, the rest of the squad still blissfully ignorant of their coworkers relationship. The other womans face told her it hadn't gone well.

"I tried calling him this morning. He's not answering his cell." Casey said, dejectedly.

"That bad?"

Casey grimaced, "worse. By the way, I managed to get the Bassett case transferred to our division. The Staten Island team weren't exactly in any fit state to follow it up."

"Good," Olivia nodded.

"Liv, can I see you for a minute?" Cragen said, hanging out of his office door. Olivia got up and followed him inside.

"Have you heard from Elliot today?" Cragen asked. Olivia shook her head.

"No." She answered honestly. She had called Elliot's cell when she had first arrived at the squad room, but it had rung out to answer phone.

"The IAB are in today, he was scheduled to meet with them, but he hasn't showed up." Cragen said. "Are you sure you haven't heard from him?"

Olivia nodded, worry starting to build, "yeah, I really haven't heard from him."

"You would tell me if you had, wouldn't you?" Cragen asked. Olivia knew why he was asking, but she still couldn't help.

"I'll drive by his apartment, see if I can find him," Olivia offered.

"Do it." Cragen nodded. "And send Casey in on your way out. I need to have a word with her about yesterday."

HOURS LATER

Olivia was worried.

Elliot wasn't in his apartment, wasn't answering his cell or home phone, and in desperation, she had even called Kathy. She was pissed at him too, apparently he was due to pick up the kids but hadn't arrived. Something was off. At 4pm, she had returned to Cragen's office, requesting that he be reported missing. The Captain had given her a knowing, sad look and told her that Elliot was under a lot of pressure at the moment, and there was no reason to think that his disappearance was suspicious.

Olivia thought otherwise though.

She knew her partner, and there was no way Elliot would disappear like this, and he wouldn't endanger the job he loves by not attending the meeting with the IAB, and he definitely wouldn't miss out on time with his kids. By the time six pm had rolled around, she was eager to get out of the precinct and begin her own search. Unfortunately, she had to drop Casey home first, and arrange for a uniform to be on her door.

"Why, where are you going tonight?" Casey asked, once they were outside the building, headed for Olivia's car. She rubbed her hands together vigorously, even after seconds outside Olivia's ears were starting to get cold and she cursed her decision to get her hair cut short again before spring had set in.

"Out." Olivia answered briskly.

"I think you're going to look for Elliot." Casey said. Olivia started at the other womans perception. Then she added. "And I want in. Where do we start."

Olivia unlocked her car, getting into the drivers seat, "Casey, you just need to keep yourself safe until this blows over."

"Come on Liv," Casey said, climbing into the passenger seat. "This isn't like him. He wouldn't just disappear without a word about where he was going. I know you're going to look for him, so where do we start?" Olivia sighed. She knew she wasn't going to be able to shake the young lawyer. Plus, if she didn't let Casey help, there was every chance she would turn Olivia in to Cragen. It would be somewhat fitting payback.

"Alright fine, you're on board. But first off, you need to dress the part."

"For what?" Casey asked, perplexed.

"You'll see." Olivia said, firing up the engine.

THE APARTMENT OF ADA CASEY NOVAK

Olivia looked Casey up and down, slightly disturbed.

"Casey, I said dress like a cop…" She said, words trailing off. Casey stood in front of her in a outfit which mirrored Olivia's own almost identically, except that the open button down Casey was wearing over her own grey vest was blue where Olivia's was purple, and her jeans were a marginally different cut. Her long, strawberry blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

Casey shrugged, "You're a cop." Olivia blinked slowly but decided to let it slide.

"All right, you'll need this," She said, handed Casey Elliot's shield, which she had borrowed from Cragens office earlier. Casey snapped it onto her belt.

"Ok, we good to go?" Casey asked. She looked excited. Olivia supposed it was a bit of a novelty to the Lawyer.

"Not so fast." Olivia held out a pistol to Casey, Elliot's own sidearm, held inside a holster with a belt fastening. "I don't want you pulling this out unless absolutely necessary." She added. Casey frowned at her, attached the holster, whipping the gun out, sliding the clip out and back in expertly, then chambering a bullet before thumbing the safety back on and returning the gun to the holster.

"My Dad taught me to shoot as soon as I was old enough, he's something of a gun enthusiast." Casey explained. Olivia nodded.

"You've never mentioned your Dad." Olivia said, taking a cue she might not get again.

"He's a good guy," Casey said, distractedly, adjusting the badge on her belt. "fought in the Vietnam war before I was born. I was kind of lucky he came back alive."

Olivia carried on, "what about your mom?"

Casey shrugged, "she married my Dad right after High School. After he came back finished his service she went to college to become a nurse. Unfortunately for her, that's when I came along. She had to take a few months out, but she said she never regretted it."

Olivia nodded, "where did she study?"

"Columbia, sorry Liv, what's with the third degree?" Casey asked. Olivia took a deep breath.

"Casey, would you rather be lied to or know the truth, even if it was more awful than you could ever imagine." Olivia asked.

Casey looked understandably bewildered, "Um, that's a very strange question. Is there something you know about Elliot you're not telling me?"

Olivia shut her eyes, "no, it's nothing to do with Elliot, please Casey, just humour me."

"All right then. Yeah, I'd rather know the truth." Casey answered, after little or no deliberation. "Are you going to offer me the choice between a blue pill or a red one now?" She asked, referancing the Matrix, one of only a few films of that ilk which Olivia had actually seen.

"That's all I wanted to know. Come on, we've got work to do." Olivia said, heading out the door, the secret on the tip of her tongue, but still not ready to come out.


	10. A beautiful lie

**A/N Ok, I am going to do a follow up story that links in to some of the events in this one, so bear with me on the side stories, they will be explored in more detail then, I just need to lay the groundwork. Hope its not getting too confusing!**

**Anyhow, let me know if you guessed the secret! Not that I'll let you know if you're right or not ;-P**

**Oh, and please review if you have a moment, you know you want to! Also, if anyone can recommend any ace C/E fics, I'll make sure to read and review them, I know I'm being lazy, but there are a hell of a lot of SVU fics to sift through! x **

_Chapter Ten: A Beautiful Lie_

OLIVIA BENSON'S CAR, THE STREETS OF NEW YORK CITY

Casey sat in the passenger seat, nerves evident.

"Where are we going?" Casey asked finally, when they had been driving for a few minutes.

"There was an address on the notepad next to Elliot's phone, I guessed that was as good a place as any to start." She said, keeping her eyes on the road, though it was post-rush hour, and the cars were sparse and moving quickly. They were now in a more suburban area, and tall buildings had given way to two story houses surrounded by neatly manicured lawns and much maligned white-picket fences. "Not far from your old neighbourhood." Olivia comment casually.

"I've never told you where I grew up." Casey shot back, surprised. Olivia cursed internally. Casey had never told her. But she had been around here just last week.

"Yeah, you did." Olivia said, trying to sound nonchalant. Casey didn't look convinced, "what, do you think I'm stalking you or something?"

"No, course not." Casey said.

"We're here." Olivia said, parking the car in front of a pretty generic looking house except for a large tree stationed in the front garden which was well overdue for a trim. Casey followed Olivia up the pebble-dashed drive, looking up at the windows for signs of life.

Olivia had barely rapped on the door when a woman answered, opening the door just a crack and peeking out. Olivia held her badge up,

"Police." She explained. The woman opened the door completely, she was in her forties, was well kept but presently wearing a dressing gown, and was at least half a foot shorter than Liv herself. "My name's Detective Olivia Benson and this is my Partner, Detective Elliot Stabler." She said, on autopilot.

"Well come on in detectives," The woman said, in an almost eerily genial way. Casey was frowning at her. Olivia shrugged as she followed the woman inside. "Please take a seat, I'll be right back with beverages." She said, swiftly departing out of a nearby swinging door. Once she was out of range, Olivia said,

"Sorry Case, just slipped out. You better play along, don't want her to get suspicious. Besides, if she had taken a closer look at your shield she might have noticed it didn't have Novak on it.."

"You could have at least given me a girls name," Casey whispered.

"Maybe you should complain to your parents about that," Olivia teased.

"Casey is a boys and girls name…"

"So is Elliot…" Before they could finish their argument, the woman had returned with a tray containing a floral pattern teapot and an old fashioned coffee percolator and several china cups, and had even managed to get dressed into day wear. Or perhaps Olivia was just getting freaked out. It was probable that she was wearing that beneath her robe.

"How can I help you detectives?" The woman asked. He smile was vacant and haunting. It was then Olivia realized that she did not know the womans name, which wasn't going to look good when they were pretending to be there on official business.

"Mrs. Vander," Casey said with a smile, "we were wondering if we could ask a few questions about your husbands whereabouts last night." Olivia hoped to hell that Casey wasn't just guessing.

"Oh I don't know," The woman laughed, waving a hand dismissively, Casey seemed to have got it right, "he does what he likes, I try to stay out of it. Tea or Coffee?"

"Coffee please, is he around today?" Casey asked.

"Oh heavens no, he's at work Detective Stabler. I'm sorry, may I just call you Elliot? Surnames are terribly formal." Mrs. Vander said, handing Casey a cup of freshly made coffee and looking over to Olivia expectantly.

"Sure, why not." Casey said, sounding disgruntled.

"Coffee too please, so Mrs. Vander," Olivia began.

"Please, call me Viv."

"Ok, Viv, your husband, he does a lot of work for that group, M.I.T.P., as I'm sure you're aware…" 'Viv' cut in.

"Oh yes, it's a wonderful cause, don't you think?" Both Casey and Olivia had to pick their jaws up from the floor.

"I think we'll have to agree to disagree on that one," Olivia said. She would have loved to get this woman in front out George Huang. Her stepford wives act was disturbing, and her eyes had a vacant stare that just screamed 'brainwashed'. On the up side, her slip of the tongue earlier had ruled out the possibility of Mrs. Vander knowing anything about Elliot's whereabouts.

Just then, there was a sound from the back of the house,

"Vivienne! I'm home, where are you?" A voice called. Vivenne jolted to her feet, scooting to the door.

"Just a moment Ladies, I need to see to my husband, he doesn't like unexpected visitors…" and with that Mrs. Vander disappeared into the kitchen.

"Shit!" Casey whispered, "if Nick Vander sees us here we're screwed!" Olivia looked back toward the front door.

"Shall we 'Elliot'?" Olivia said, moving with admirable silence to the front door, happy to find it was still unlocked. Casey took her cue and both bolted out the front door, jumping into Olivia's car. Olivia fired up the engine with a roar, and Casey couldn't help but feel just a little bit like they were one of her favourite on screen cop duos, Starsky and Hutch. For some reason though, Olivia didn't immediately slam on the accelerator, an act which would certainly have made the moment.

"Liv?" Casey said.

"Put your seatbelt on first Casey." Olivia frowned. Casey sighed, snapping the belt into place.

"Well that killed the scene." She muttered, only aware she had said it out loud when Olivia looked at her, puzzled,

"Huh?"

"Nothing, drive." Casey said. Finally, Olivia pulled out of the driveway.

"How did you know that was Nick Vander's wife?" Olivia asked, checking her rearview to make sure they hadn't been followed. Satisfied that was the case, she slowed the car to an idle cruising speed.

"I saw the name on a stack of post as we were walking in." Casey said, trying to sound casual, but still coming off smug.

"Good spot counsellor." Olivia nodded, feeling proud for reasons she couldn't quite explain. She carried on driving, deliberately taking the long way out of the neighbourhood, so that they would drive past Casey's parents house, where she had been just a week ago. She saw a vague flicker of recognition in Casey's eyes as they past her old house, but she said nothing.

"Nice houses are here." Olivia commented passively.

"Mmm." Casey replied. "So, where to next?"

A WEEK AGO

"Casey's middle name is Bracha. It's Hebrew for 'A Blessing'." The woman had said, as she had pressed a cup of coffee into Olivia's hands. It wasn't hard to tell that Casey was an only child. The mantlepiece of the spacious bungalow the Novak's called home was effectively a shrine to the ADA, and looking at it from left to right, it looked like a timeline of Casey though the ages, from newborn right to present day. A few other photographs were scattered around, of her parents, most likely before Casey had been born, a wedding photo, and a couple of Casey's father, Joshua Novak in uniform.

Casey's mother, Hannah Novak, was a small, but dignified woman. Her hair was a dark shade of brown, but Olivia couldn't tell if it was natural, though she guessed it wasn't from the way it contrasted so sharply with her pale complexion.

"Me and Joshua, we had been trying for a baby before he went out to 'Nam." Hannah said, eyes turning dreamy, perhaps slipping mentally back to times past. "We picked the name 'Casey' before she was even conceived, and Joshua, before he went, he got the name tattooed across his bicep, so that even if I only found out I was pregnant after he shipped out, he'd have our baby's name tattooed on him." She smiled, glancing up at the pictures on the mantle piece. "Before we married, we both knew we wanted a big family, as many as we could support."

"What stopped you?" Olivia asked.

"Well, I never did get pregnant before he had to ship out," Hannah said sadly. "In a way, I was glad. I was worried that he would get killed out there, and I'd have to raise our child alone. Thinking back, I can't believe how selfish I was to think like that…"

"Hey, things were different then," Olivia said comfortingly. She couldn't quite believe that this softly spoken woman had produced their brash, forthright ADA, "being a single mom wasn't what it is now."

"The trouble was, he did come back. But not all of him." Hannah said. "they gave him a purple heart. Some consolation…" She scoffed, a touch of bitterness colouring her words. Ever the Detective, Olivia had noticed that there was a ramp leading up to the front door, and all the furniture was placed with ample room about it.

"Everyone else in his helicopter was killed when it went down for the third time," Hannah recounted, "Joshua, well, he lost his legs, broke near enough every bone in his body, but he survived, barely. And I was so, so glad to have him back…" Her words trailed off. "He was medically discharged, we bought this place so he could get around with the payout he got. I needed to support him, so I started going to college. Joshua, he wouldn't speak for weeks at a time, and when he did he was miserable, morbid even. The doctors told him he would never walk again. Along with that, he would never be able to father a child. There were times, I feared he was going to harm himself whilst I was away, he became obsessed with guns. It went on for months."

Olivia blinked, only realizing then that she had tears in her eyes,

"Then what happened?" Olivia asked, voice faltering.

The older woman smiled at the mantle piece, "then, I told him I was pregnant. It was as if someone had turned the light back on in his eyes. Suddenly where he was silent before, I couldn't shut him up. He started going to his physiotherapy, finally got himself fitted for prosthetic legs. He said someone's gotta teach him or her how to pitch a baseball. He started going to church again. I remember when I was a few months along, we were laid on the bed, he had his ear pressed to my baby bump, he loved to do that, and he told me, he finally knew why God had kept him alive in 'Nam." Hannah was misty eyed too now. "Casey is his little miracle. I don't doubt for a moment, Casey being born saved Joshua's life."

"But what about you?" Olivia asked, "you've been keeping this secret for years…"

"What about me?" Hannah said, "Olivia, here's what I think: Everything happens for a reason, and everything worth having has a price. I have a wonderful husband, and a beautiful, perfect little daughter all for the price of a secret kept. It seems like a fair trade off to me."

Olivia nodded silently.

A WEEK LATER

OLIVIA BENSON'S CAR, THE STREETS OF NEW YORK CITY

The evening dark was easing in, and Olivia Benson drove aimlessly through the streets, wasting petrol and wondering where to go next.

"Liv, are we actually going somewhere, or are you just hoping that we might run over Elliot by accident?" Casey asked, as they circled the same block for the third time. Olivia snapped out of her thoughts,

"Uh, sure, we just need to…" Olivia took a different turn at the crossroads this time, hoping to provide a facsimile of an objective

"You have no idea." Casey said, crossing her arms; looking annoyed, but surprisingly alert at the late hour. Olivia had to admire the other womans ability to recover from a drinking bender.

"Maybe we should call it a day." Olivia admitted, "those M.I.T.P. bastards are holding a meeting tomorrow, since it's a Saturday we'll be able to go without also having to go AWOL from the precinct."

"In disguise?" Casey asked, sounding hopeful.

"If you want." Olivia smiled, making a u-turn and heading back across town toward Casey's place.

"You can crash at mine if you want," Casey said, reading her mind. Olivia did not want to explain to her boyfriend Kurt that she was late home because she was out searching the streets for her missing partner. He wasn't exactly 'understanding' of her relationship with Elliot, and that was putting it mildly.

"I'll make dinner," Olivia offered.

"Why, so we can beg more time off work come Monday if we still haven't found Elliot?" Casey asked, finally relaxing a little. Olivia had found that while Casey was wound pretty tight at work, it seemed to just be a necessity of her job. Outside of work, she was actually quite laidback.

Olivia frowned, taking mock offence, "oh come on, it was only _mild _food poisoning!"


	11. Lessons learned

_**A/N: Um, swearing and violence warning, but its not awful, so it's unlikely to offend anyone, and I'm pretty sure it's no worse than the rest of the story, but I thought I'd better say. It's all in context too, I'm not a fan of gore and copious expletives to be honest…**_

_**As always, reviews make me happy as an escaped hamster (who'd want to live for a cage their whole life?)**_

_**Oh, and there is an authors note at the end of the chapter… **_

_Chapter Eleven: Lessons learned_

A WEEK AND THREE DAYS LATER

A UNDERGROUND ROOM SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK

_Cry_.

_Cry dammit!_

The room was silent except for the rhythmic crack of the leather against skin, Elliot's breath, ragged with exertion. The only sound from Casey was a just audible hitch in her breath when the belt connected with her back.

Elliot's desperate attempts at telepathy did not seem to be working. All he needed was her to crank out some goddamn tears, fake it, give Hamilton what he fucking wanted, but instead, she had her eyes clamped shut, biting down on her lower lip and taking it.

Sometimes Elliot wished his girlfriend wasn't so goddamn stubborn. If she was still his girlfriend that is, Casey hadn't quite confirmed that he was forgiven yet. Another reason for Elliot to lament her mulish nature. Casey's back and shoulders were covered in angry red welts, some of the worst were bloodied, trickling shiny crimson streaks soaking into the hem of her jeans. Elliot had seen victims in far worse conditions, but the fact that the wounds were created by his own hand, that was what was causing the bile to rise in his throat. He wondered if his father felt like this when he beat him.

In some ways, he hoped he did, hoped he felt at least some guilt, but that it had to be done.

Elliot couldn't take it anymore. He dropped the belt to the floor and jerked Casey around to face him. He took her wrists in one hand and her chin in the other.

"God Elliot!" She yelped as he pressed her damaged back against the cold concrete wall.

"Have you learnt your lesson?" He asked. She stared straight into his eyes, her green eyes looked dark in the dim, one-bulb lit room. The look said 'don't push it'.

"Yes." She bit out curtly.

"Don't sound like she means it." Hamilton decided. He looked supremely relaxed, hands woven together behind his head, reclining on the sole chair wooden chair that inhabited the room. Elliot mimed _please_ to Casey, staring imploringly.

"I have." She said, voice still flat. Goddamnit. Elliot had mixed feelings about Casey not being afraid of him even though he had just beaten the living shit out of her. Long term, it did bode well for the future of their relationship. Short term, it was a bitch.

He felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Stabler, back off her a second ." Hamilton said. Elliot immediately let Casey go, relieved. "Take a seat my man." Hamilton smiled, one hand gesturing to the chair. Casey was staring at him, looking genuinely afraid for the first time. This was her fault. Elliot took the seat, trying to keep from physically shaking as Hamilton approached Casey.

Fuck.

She should never have listened to Olivia and overrode her survival instincts.

Hamilton didn't look pissed, in fact, he looked supremely delighted. She wanted to thump the smug smile right off his face, but that wasn't an option. The man was a mountain, so instead she found herself backing into a corner as he encroached, achingly slowly.

"Aw, scared?" He asked derisively. He clamped a massive hand around her throat, and slammed his fist into her stomach, three times in quick succession. It had hurt when Elliot hit her, but that was nothing compared to this. Her insides felt like they were exploding. He then released her neck, and she slid down to the floor, drawing her knees to her chest, folding into a tight ball, protecting her vital parts instinctively, shivering violently despite her best efforts. Hamilton leant in close, a sick smirk playing about his narrow lips.

"Have you learnt your lesson." He asked.

"Yes," Casey whispered, ashamed of the weakness in her voice, and the tears that were now falling freely. And that she was patently afraid of him.

"Good." Hamilton said, giving her a swift kick for good measure. His what felt like steel-toed boots thudded into her side with a sickening snap. Casey was certain that was at least a couple of ribs broken or cracked, and she had to fight the urge to throw up. Hamilton paced to the other side of the room and threw her vest at her.

"Put that back on." He said, then he jerked the door open and called out, "Doug! Get here and take this back to the holding cell. I need to have a chat with our new boy." The man Casey could only imagine was 'Doug' walked in, yanking her to her feet by and arm and dragging her out of the room.

Elliot tensed his fists and ground his teeth. He needed to get his blood pressure down or he was positive a blood vessel in his neck was going to rupture and spray boiling temperature blood all over the room in hearty spurts.

To do that, he imagined the most relaxing scene he could in the present circumstance. His hands around Hamilton's throat, his thumbing digging deep into the mans windpipe, the wet chugging sound as the bastard took his last breaths, his eyes bulging from that big ugly head of his as the light left them.

"How did that feel?" Hamilton asked casually, working the tension out of his fists by cracking each knobbled knuckle separately. Elliot tried his best to look passive, he imagined wrenching Hamilton's limbs off one by one.

"Tiring." He said, yawning deliberately.

"I mean, how did it feel, beating the shit out of your girlfriend?" Hamilton asked, walking over to Elliot. Instinctively, Elliot jumped to his feet.

"Not the first time." Elliot shrugged.

"Bullshit Stabler. I've got your number Detective. You may have fooled Vander, but not me," He pointed into Elliot's face, but Elliot slapped his hand away. "Do you think I don't know what you're doing here? You're here to infiltrate and try to take us down from the inside."

"If you're so sure about that, why haven't you already turned me in to Vander?" Elliot asked. Hamilton was positively glowing.

"Because, I wanted to you to see what being a real man felt like first. So tell me, how did that feel?" Hamilton asked, face centimetres from Elliot's. His near black eyes had a twinkle now. Elliot paced his breathing, counting backward from ten. Before Elliot got to seven, Hamilton had turned his back and was heading for the door, victorious.

Before he got to five, Elliot had picked up the discarded belt. Before he got to three, Elliot looped the belt over Hamilton's head, pulling it tight against his throat, forcing the larger man backwards, choking as the belt closed his windpipe.

"How does _that _feel, huh?" Elliot whispered in Hamilton's ear.

A WEEK AND THREE DAYS EARLIER

THE APARTMENT OF ADA CASEY NOVAK

Olivia awoke from a fitful sleep, checking her wristwatch to find it was only just part six in the morning. Olivia had been a light sleeper from a young age, and Casey's leather couch didn't make slumber any easier, it was slippery as hell and she had repeatedly woken on the cusp of sliding off, plus there was the god awful sounds it made when she made the fatal mistake of changing positions. She cursed her decision to allow Kurt move into her place once as she got to her feet and her back protested her abandoning the gorgeous, impossibly soft mattress that topped her apartments bed, and again when she glanced at her cell on the coffee table, icon blinking for several unread messages.

There were only so many more nights she could claim she was working round the clock before Kurt put in a call to the senate to report slavery practices taking place in the NYPD, but she still had a little time before Kurt's lease on his old apartment was up.

She really needed to break up with him before that happened.

Olivia felt bad about leaving him heartbroken, she didn't want to leave him homeless to boot. That'd be a real kick in the balls, not that Kurt didn't deserve one on occasion. A lot of occasions actually.

She slipped silently into the bedroom, finding Casey sprawled on her back fast asleep, tangled haphazardly in her duvet. Dawn light was coming though the blinds in slices, and Olivia couldn't help but stop to study the young lawyers features in a way she wouldn't be able to were Casey awake.

Strawberry-blonde hair, angular sharp features, forest green eyes (though shut right now), ashen complexion, full, cherry red lips (even without lipstick on) which contrasted strongly with her skin.

Olivia could not see the faintest resemblance.

AROUND A WEEK PRIOR

THE HOME OF HANNAH AND JOSHUA NOVAK

Olivia had told Casey's mother that they were running through cold cases, and her daughters DNA had been ran against that of an old case just to eliminate her profile, as there had been some cross contamination. It was a half truth.

"Why didn't you go to the police?" Olivia asked. Hannah shrugged.

"With all the stresses we were going through, Josh was in such a bad way. Telling him I had been raped might have pushed him over the edge, but then when I found out I was pregnant, I knew I could never say a thing." She leaned close to Olivia, tears glistening, "do you have any idea what it would do to a child if they found out they were the product of a rape? Can you imagine anything worse?"

Olivia blinked slowly, "no." She said, voice barely above a whisper.

A WEEK LATER

THE APARTMENT OF ADA CASEY NOVAK

Olivia had felt a pang of jealousy.

She had always tried to justify her own mothers attitude toward her, generally swinging between drunken indifference and outright cruelty, by reasoning that it was natural. What woman could look into the eyes of their bastard, rapist sired child and feel love? Olivia had been inflicted on her mother, and Serena made damn sure her daughter knew it.

But Hannah Novak had kept that terrible secret to herself, foregoing justice for herself so that her daughter would never have to know how she was conceived. Olivia could tell that the love Hannah had for her daughter was genuine, she could see it in her eyes, and from the fact that she had managed live with the truth bottled up, all these years. Olivia wondered how she might have been different had her own mother been so selfless. Casey began to stir, moaning and tugging the duvet up tight to her neck.

"Ugh, Liv, what time is it?" She muttered moodily, looking at Olivia through eyes open only a slit.

"Early. I'm gonna make a start on breakfast. What do you want?" Olivia asked, perching on the edge of Casey's bed. The ADA made no attempt to rouse herself any further.

"Coffee." Casey said sleepily, pulling the quilt over her face like a teenager trying to hide from an impending school morning.

"You want that in a cup, or IV drip?" Olivia smiled. Casey made an untranslatable sound from beneath her duvet. It seemed it was too early for banter. "I'll let you grab another hour, the group's not until the afternoon anyway." Olivia said, walking out of the room and leaving her younger half-sister to snooze for a little longer.

**A/N 2: By the way, go 'Ms. Novak', you got it in one! :-D. I was hoping the clues hadn't been too ambiguous… **


	12. I’m not feeling this situation

**A/N Ok, finally managed to get another chapter done, I lost my timeline on my PC so I had to read it through again… Anyhow, I just wanted to say I'm glad people are cool with the whole messed up Elliot having to beat Casey up thing, I'm not trying to be evil to her character (she's actually my fave SVU character, hence my fics tending to star her primarily), I just thought it would be an interesting, if screwed up dynamic, which will be especially helpful for the follow-up story, tentatively titled "Monsters" which is going to be a lost-esque flashback featuring angst-ridden story about how the guys get over the aftermath of this story and over their pasts (that's where the flashbacks come in…). I can't wait to write it actually! Once I've finished this one of course.**

**Anyway, epic ramble over.**

**Oh yeah, and can someone let me know if I need to bump the rating on this story? Not sure exactly how it works, I thought that "T" is equivalent to a "15" rated film in the UK, so it's cool to say F**k(god knows why I'm starring it out here, it just felt right) a few times… please correct me if I'm wrong though… **

**Reviews make rainbows form inside my heart… x**

_Chapter Twelve: I'm not feeling this situation_

A WEEK AND THREE DAYS LATER

AN UNDERGROUND FACILITY SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK

Olivia had taken to counting the murky grey-green ceiling tiles in an effort to ignore the burning pain in her leg. Casey had been gone for some time, and though she was in the care of her Partner Elliot, whom she trusted implicitly, Olivia was starting to get concerned.

It had been around half an hour when the door opened, and a man Olivia hadn't seen before pushed Casey through the it. She just about got her hands under herself before she hit the floor, and the man slammed the door, locking it. The back of her grey vest was soaked with a worrying amount of blood.

"Casey, you ok?" Olivia said, shuffling over as Casey rolled herself onto her back, muttering a string of curses as she did.

"Been better." Casey strained, making a move to sit up, then wincing in agony and remaining horizontal.

"What happened in there?" Olivia asked.

"Vander didn't like my attitude, so he decided to send me away with Hamilton, who gladly kicked the crap out of me." Casey answered.

"Where was Elliot?" Olivia asked, noticing that the ADA seemed short of breath.

"I don't know," Casey muttered, "he stayed with Vander. I think they had 'things' to discuss."

"God, if Elliot had seen what Hamilton did to you he probably would have strangled the guy," Olivia commented. Casey quickly cast her gaze to the ceiling. "Let me take a look at this." Olivia said, slowly lifting Casey's vest to make sure her injuries didn't warrant any further attention. Casey swatted her hands off, frowning intensely.

"Hey, do you mind?" She said.

"Case, I just need to check you out." Olivia said gently.

"I'm fine." Casey snapped.

"You don't look it." Olivia replied.

"Hamilton went to town, but I think I'll live." Casey said, trying again to sit up. Olivia didn't allow her to.

"You're short of breath." Olivia noticed. Casey's breathing had been shallow since she had returned.

"Hamilton gave me a kick in the ribs, it'll be fine." Casey said.

"I'll be the judge of that." Olivia said, putting her hands on the sides of Casey's ribcage, working down slowly, pressing with her thumbs.

"God!" Casey yelped.

"I think you've got a couple of cracked ribs." Olivia said.

"No shit Sherlock." Casey muttered. She was grumpy when she was in pain.

"Can you take a deep breath for me Case?" Olivia said, ignoring Casey's protests and rolling her vest up to her bra.

"I'd rather not." Casey said, glaring at her from the floor.

"Casey."

"Fine." Casey said, sucking in a deep breath, and whimpering at the apex of it. Olivia looked at her chest. Both sides rose in unision.

"And let it out. You should be fine, you can't have fractured more than a couple, there's no indentation when you breath in on either side." Olivia commented. Casey exhaled, squeezing her eyes shut.

"So it only feels like they're all broken?" She asked.

"Yeah, you big baby." Olivia said, trying to lighten the mood. "I've been shot over here and you don't hear me complaining." Casey stuck her tongue out at her. "Oh, a raspberry counsellor? Very professional."

"That raspberry was blown at you as a civilian, not as an officer of the court." Casey said, managing a small smirk. Olivia held out a hand, index finger pointing north and thumb extended.

"And you'll be glad to know I'm displaying this loser sign to you not in my capacity as a law enforcement officer, but as a fellow civilian." Olivia said. Casey laughed, then started to cough,

"Shit." She muttered, placing a hand over her damaged ribs. "Don't make me laugh."

"Sorry," Olivia said, offering her hand and helping Casey to a seated position.

"Hey Liv, what were you saying before Elliot came in?" Casey asked.

"Uh, can't remember." Olivia lied. While she was waiting for Casey to return, she had turned the facts over and over in her head. Casey thought her father was war veteran, Joshua Novak. Only she, Melinda Warner, George Huang, and of course Casey's mother knew otherwise.

Was there really any harm in Casey believing that lie for the rest of her life?

She thought back to her conversation with Huang. He had told Olivia it was up to her whether or not she told Casey, and try as she did, she couldn't wrangle an opinion out of him either way. One thing he had asked her was, had she had the choice, would she have wanted to know? Olivia knew the answer to that for a certainty.

"You were talking about that whole DNA debacle, when I accidentally contaminated the crime scene." Casey reminded her.

"Oh yeah." Olivia nodded.

"Well?" Casey said.

"You know what, I really have no idea." Olivia lied again, hoping to push Casey off the subject. Casey narrowed her eyes. Why did she have to be so damned perceptive?

"Is there something you're not telling me?" Casey asked, pinning Olivia with an intense stare.

"Like what?" Olivia asked.

"I don't know, you're not telling me."

A WEEK AND THREE DAYS PRIOR

ST MARY'S CHURCH COMMUNITY CENTRE

"Well that was useless." Casey said as she and Olivia made their way out of the community centre. There had been a strange amount of people present at the M.I.T.P. meeting, and it concerned Casey slightly that so many people might hold such a warped viewpoint.

"Yeah, I guess we're back to the drawing board," Olivia said distractedly, looking across the road. Casey followed her sightline and saw Hamilton, head stitched up from an injury he incurred from Elliot belting him at the wall when he was in custody, getting into a car.

"Or not." Casey smiled. Both women quickly dashed to Olivia's car, which luckily was only parked feet away. Casey snapped in her seatbelt as Olivia floored the accelerator. Hamilton already had a head start on them.

Olivia caught up with him a few blocks down, and deliberately slowed to a cruising speed a few cars behind, so as not to arouse suspicion.

"Where do you think he's going?" Casey asked.

"Probably just home, but you never know. Might get lucky." Olivia said.

"Liv, you're the detective, but just out of curiosity, why are we looking at the M.I.T.P.? It's unlikely they've kidnapped El, so far all the victims have been women."

"Because Nick Vander's home address was on Elliot's notepad next to is phone. He was suspended, but I don't think he could leave it alone, he blames himself that we had to cut Hamilton loose." Olivia explained.

"You think he's gone rogue?" Casey asked.

Olivia nodded, "maybe. I hate to ask, but that night, when I dropped you home after your night out, how did he seem."

"Pissed." Casey said, "we had a fight, I told him to get out of my apartment. Which he did. Then he came back…"

TWO DAYS PRIOR

THE APARTMENT BUILDING OF ADA CASEY NOVAK

_Screw pride_ Elliot thought, turning on his heel and heading back to Casey's apartment door, fumbling in his pocket for his spare key. Casey had been unbelievably careless going out tonight, but his anger just further proved to him that he cared about her, far too much to let a petty argument get in the way. Her hurtful words were still ringing in his ears, but she was blatantly drunk, it wasn't her fault. He jammed the key into the lock and found Casey glaring at him from the couch.

"I told you to leave." She said levelly, not moving from the couch.

"And I did." Elliot said, swinging the door shut behind him so she knew he was staying.

Casey rolled her eyes theatrically at Elliot and rose from the couch, striding over to him purposefully, proud that she only tottered slightly from her admittedly high level of inebriation. She paused in front of him, letting her sternest glare sink in, before reaching for the door handle. Elliot caught her hand. She went to free it, and he caught the other too, drawing her wrists up to his chest.

"Elliot, I…" Elliot didn't let her finish the sentence. He crushed his lips against hers, obscuring her words. When he relented for a moment, and she opened her mouth to try to remonstrate further, all she succeeded in doing was allowing him to slip his tongue in, wrestling with hers for dominance and winning easily. Casey had to admit, it was a damn good way of winning an argument. Nevertheless, she was pissed, and pissed with Elliot, and nothing good (although no doubt it would be _good_) could come of sleeping with him now. Casey needed to have a serious think about exactly what she was doing, and that internal debate was best held when Elliot did not have his tongue in her mouth, and his hands firmly on her ass, pressing his hips hard into hers and evidencing that either he had chosen one hell of a strange place to store his side arm, or he was having a very good time. She pushed Elliot away before the alcohol addled side of her brain took over, the side that thought it was actually quite an excellent idea to screw Elliot right now.

"Screw you Elliot." She spat, her anger from earlier returning quickly.

"That is the idea." Elliot said, closing the space between them and pulling her into his arms again. The heat and familiar form of his body was comforting, but the smell of his aftershave which she normally loved was making her feel ill, which was good. She could use that. She wriggled free from his grasp once more and opened the door.

"Elliot, if you think you can say what you said to me, then stroll just stroll back in here and fuck me, and everything would be alright, then you've got another thing coming. I want an apology." She said evenly. Elliot's face washed angry again.

"Screw that Casey, I'm the one who is owed an apology." He rumbled

"What, because you waited around my apartment for me and I didn't show up? Did I ask you to do that?" Casey said, feeling her voice rising.

"I was waiting because I fucking care about you Casey, but I guess that was a mistake on my part." He snapped, storming out the open door for the second time that night.


	13. Just tonight…

**A/N So, Olivia gets more chapter time in this one, I think I was neglecting her a little. Well, essentially, I realized that I sent Olivia back home after she dropped Casey off, and since she hadn't been back there in a while, it would be a bit of a thing, so I thought I'd better address that! So, to avoid confusion, Olivia's flashback is to the same night that Casey was recounting in the last chapter, when Casey's all drunk and Olivia drives her home then leaves her with Elliot.**

**Most of my fics are written to kill boredom during epic bouts of insomnia, and this chapter is no different! **

**Oh, yeah, and review if you have a mo… but you already knew that, right ;-) xx**

_Chapter Thirteen: Just tonight…_

TWO DAYS LATER

OUTSIDE CAFÉ NERO

As they parked outside of a chain coffee place which Hamilton had entered, waiting for him to continue his journey, Casey recounted the events, minus some of the more choice elements. Olivia cringed.

"Yeah, Elliot can be a little suffocating sometimes, but it's just his way of being protective." Olivia said, keeping her eyes locked on the buildings exit. Casey nodded, mentally kicking herself. What Olivia had said just confirmed what she was already thinking; that she was the one owing Elliot an apology, not visa versa. He had been worried about her, and she was the one who had flown off the handle, with accusations which she knew were entirely groundless. After she kicked his ass for disappearing on her, she was going to have to fashion some sort of apology. That is, if there were still an item. Elliot hadn't left on the best of terms.

"Mmm." Casey replied. She had made the mistake of uttering the words 'I was wrong' in the squad room once. A silence had ensued, followed quickly by John Munch cursing the fact that he hadn't caught the declaration on videotape, as now they'd have to wait another 75 years to witness the phenomena again. She didn't find it funny, though everyone else had seemed to."How was Kurt when you went home?" Casey asked, more to change the subject than out of actual curiosity.

Olivia smiled tightly. "Pissed."

TWO DAYS EARLIER

THE APARTMENT OF DETECTIVE OLIVIA BENSON

_This is stupid _Olivia told herself and the steering wheel she was currently leaning on. She looked up again at her apartment window. The light was on, which was surprising considering the lateness of the hour, and she had been sat in her car, outside her own goddamn apartment building arguing with the dashboard about whether or not to go inside.

This was definitely stupid.

Reluctantly, she pulled the keys from the ignition, stuffing them into her jacket pocket before exiting the vehicle, slamming the door shut.

She paused again at the entrance of the building, taking a deep breath of stingingly cold night air before willing herself through the door on pure inertia, opting to take the stairs, telling herself it was for the extra bit of exercise, but knowing it was to delay the inevitable arrival at her destination. She paused a third time in front of her own door, then, not before reminding herself that she was an adult and this was _her_ apartment, she jammed the key into the lock.

It wouldn't budge.

"Shit," Olivia muttered, trying again, but to no avail. She leaned her forehead against the door, seriously considering going straight back to her car and just driving or walking around the city until morning. It wouldn't have been the first time.

Her blurring vision and heavy eyelids told her that was not going to be one of those nights.

Tentatively, she rapped on the door, "Kurt, it's Olivia, open up." She said, with as much spirit as she could muster. Lately, when she showed up at her apartment late from work (on the rare occasion that she showed up at all these days), Kurt had taken to leaving his key in the lock on the inside of the door, thereby jamming it, and forcing her to stand outside her own apartment while he took his sweet time answering the door. It annoyed the hell out of her, but her near constant absence most likely did the same to him.

She rapped on the door again when there was no reply, "Kurt!" She called a bit louder, conscious of her voice echoing in the empty hallway. Her neighbours would be less than thankful if she got them out of bed at this ungodly hour, and she felt rather embarrassed having to wait outside her own front door, though she imagined that was exactly his intention with this particular little stunt.

A few seconds later, the door swung open.

"I was asleep." Kurt muttered gruffly, by way of apology or explanation, Olivia wasn't sure. He was bull-shitting her though, she knew that much. The living room light had been on, and he was still in his suit. He stood by the coffee table, ominously silent and still, waiting for Olivia to shut the door behind her. She did, closing it gently to avoid the slam awakening the other inhabitants of the building.

"Do I get a hello?" Kurt asked, eyes narrowed and dark. Instinctively, Olivia's eyes darted about the room, settling on an opened decanter on the coffee table, accompanied by an empty glass. This scene was familiar in a way that would have been damn near comforting were it not her least favourite memories transposed onto what was supposedly a new life with all the shit her mother put her through firmly in the past.

On the upside, her familiarity with this sort of situation led to a certain amount of expertise. He was calm now, she just needed to keep it that way.

"Hello." She said brightly, attempting a smile but feeling it only came off half-hearted. "Uh, you want me to make you dinner?" She asked, not sure what else to say to her boyfriend, whose face had become a mask.

"It's nearly five in the morning," He spat.

"Oh right, breakfast then?" Olivia asked playfully, hoping she might be able to turn the whole thing into a bit of a joke.

"Liv, I haven't seen you for five fucking days." He said, voice low, "what, do you think I'm an idiot? That I can't cook for myself? Shit, if I couldn't I'd probably be dead by now, remind me not to let you get any pets."

Olivia couldn't help it, her hackles were up, "excuse me Kurt, _let_?"

"You know what I mean." Kurt said, waving a hand dismissively.

"I think you should go." Olivia said softly. She hadn't come home with the intention of breaking up with Kurt, but now seemed as good a time as any to do the deed. And being pissed off with him certainly helped.

"Go?" Kurt said, lurching forward. Perhaps he'd had more to drink that Olivia had estimated. She used to be able to approximate her mothers mood when she got back to her house by checking the level of alcohol left in her mothers newest opened bottle. She hadn't quite gotten to know Kurt well enough to do the same for him.

"Go where? Unless you've forgotten, I live here too!" He said, leaning in and squinting at her. From this close, she could smell the whisky on his breath. She was not in the mood to have this conversation.

"Fine, lets just call it a night." Olivia said, defeated. She'd have plenty of time to break up with him in the morning. Over the phone.

He leaned in closer, eyes hard, "you know, I wonder sometimes why I put up with your shit. You're a fucking lousy girlfriend." He said, flatly. Olivia closed her eyes, letting it wash over her. She'd had worse things said to her, coldly, callously by her own mother, even when she was sober. She stepped around him and walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. She peeling out of her clothes quickly, swapping them for a vest and a fresh pair of pants and climbed into bed.

A few minutes later, Kurt came in, kicking his shoes to one side of the room with two heavy thuds. He discarded his suit in the general vicinity of the wash basket and joined her in bed, lazily drooping an arm over her middle. He needed to sober up. That and he needed a goddamn shower.

That was one things that was worse. At least when Olivia was a kid, when she went to her room, she could just bolt the door, stick her head under the pillow and feel some modicum of peace.

The feel of Kurt's body next to her, warm and stinking of alcohol, in her last place of refuge, it felt awfully oppressive.

As he began to snore, she stared at the alarm clock, waiting for it to tell her she could escape again.

TWO DAYS LATER

OUTSIDE CAFÉ NERO

Olivia dressed up the whole episode, lies rolling off her tongue easily. In her version, Kurt _had_ been asleep, the keys left in the door was an accident, which, adorable dunce that he is, Kurt was quite prone to. He had been grumpy about being woken, but nothing else. Casey seemed to buy it. Casey also seemed a little preoccupied, so that definately helped to increase the voracity of her fable.

"He's taking a long time in that coffee place." Olivia said, confused. They had been waiting outside nearly an hour.

"Maybe we should go in?" Casey suggested.

"Nah, he's seen both of us before. He'll make us right away." Olivia said, squinting to try and see through the tinted glass of the coffee place. It was useless. Just then, an engine roared to life somewhere behind them. Casey started, and Olivia looking around, trying to pinpoint the sound, when the back window of Olivia's car shattered into millions of tiny glass blocks.


	14. Reversals

**A/N Busy weekend, but I finally got a chapter done, so enjoy (hopefully!).**

**Thanks to everyone who is reading along as I'm writing this, you are pretty amazing, and as always, review if you have a mo, so I know you're there!**

**X**

_Chapter Fourteen: Reversals _

Olivia was startled for a second, then there was another tumultuous bang. The whole car shook and for the first time, she saw the assailant. A man wearing a ski mask, chest heaving, wielding a titanium baseball bat menacingly. He looked violently incongruous in broad daylight on an open street, but he certainly meant business. He swung the bat again, taking out the drivers side window, and Olivia had to duck quick to avoid being caught. She heard Casey curse and a shower of safety glass splashed over her. She quickly released the parking brake slammed the accelorator, praying there were no cars ahead of them.

Thankfully, the car did not immediately rear-end another vehicle, and once they had cleared a few feet Olivia sat upright again, finally getting her hands back on the wheel and her eyes on the road. She slammed heavily on the brakes, only just swerving in time to make a sharp corner.

"Shit!" Olivia said, still out of breath, "that was close!" Casey was ducked in the passenger, looking up at Olivia with wide eyes.

"Yeah," she said breathlessly, having to shout to outdo the roar of the engine. Just then, there was a faint cracking sound, as a bullet skipped off the roof of the car. Olivia checked the rear-view, sighting a red Buick Lasabre following them. On the passenger side, she could another ski masked man, possibly the same one from the sidewalk, popping out the passenger side window with pistol. His hand recoiled as he fired again, a bullet pinging off the bodywork frighteningly nearby.

"Fuck! Casey, you're gonna have to return fire," Olivia said, flooring the accelerator and taking her battered vehicle to nearly the top speed her car could achieve, noting that the pursuing vehicle was matching pace easily, and even gaining on them. Casey looked at her as if she had suggested she scale the empire state building using only a pair of bathroom plungers. "Novak, you said you knew how to use a gun, now fucking use it!" Olivia shouted, hoping to shock the lawyer out of her stupor. With the gunman hanging out the window, he could easily target vital parts of the vehicle, or even try shooting for her or Casey. They needed to fire back, as that would force the gunman back into the vehicle, meaning he'd have to fire blind.

"I've never shot _at _anyone!" Casey said, still not drawing her gun.

"Don't, just fire at the car, so they know we're carrying!" Olivia said, getting frustrated. It was tough enough driving at this speed without hitting anyone or any person without having to coach Casey through firing a few warning shots. although she had managed to navigate the chase toward an unpopulated area, an large industrial site which was all but clear on the weekend. She shot a sideways glance at the ADA, who had now freed her weapon of its holster and was moving to pop her head out the window. Olivia quickly reached across, grabbing Casey's shirt and pulling hard.

"Shit Case, are you nuts?" She snapped, relieved that she had caught the younger woman before she got herself shot in the face. She'd already had one Assistant District Attorney shot whilst in her care, if she lost another one it was likely she would be banned from leaving the DA's office with them. "Don't pop out the window, use the wing mirror to aim!" she instructed. When she had time, she was going to lodge a complaint with the NYPD's traffic department. Olivia hoped they would have heard about this chase by now and sent out a squad car or two to put an end to it. She heard a loud bang nearby, follow by another two. Casey was returning fire, and she checked her rear-view, glad to see that the gunman from the other car had returned to his seat.

"Good work, keep firing," Olivia said. Casey seemed to have gotten the hang of it, either that or was buzzing on adrenaline.

The other car continued to fire blind at them, and Olivia slammed the car around corners hard and late, trying to shake them off. Unfortunately, her car was well due for retirement. She had only really hung onto the old girl for nostalgias sake.

Now she needed no excuse for a replacement. She wondered if her insurance covered her for high-speed shootouts.

"I think we've got a tyre out!" Olivia yelled, her poor car protesting the abuse of its gear box. They were definitely slowing, despite Olivia holding the pedal to the floor.

"What do we do?" Casey asked, dropping the empty clip out of Elliot's borrowed pistol and fumbling to reload. Another bullet from the pursuing car took off the drivers side wing mirror. It was decision time, and Olivia had to call the shots.

"Ok, get ready." Olivia said, taking the car down a narrow track between two tall warehouses.

A WEEK AND THREE DAYS LATER

AN UNDERGROUND FACILITY SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK

"So," Olivia said, "I don't suppose you saw any convenient, unguarded exits while you were schlepping around up there with Hamilton." It was a blatant attempt to dissuade Casey from asking anymore questions about the DNA debacle, but Casey seemed too distracted with keeping her breathing even and shallow, perhaps trying to avoid angering her most definitely cracked ribs.

"I wasn't up anywhere," Casey said hoarsely . "I think we're in some sort of underground bunker."

"Great." Olivia muttered, letting a silence settle between them.

"Hey, I've got a question for you," Casey said, "and you have to answer it honestly."

"Go on then." Olivia said cautiously, hoping Casey wasn't going to start about the DNA again.

"Who's a better prosecutor, me or Alex Cabot?" She asked. Olivia smiled at the childish question.

"That's not a fair question." Olivia answered diplomatically, staying firmly on the fence. On paper, Casey's conviction rate put her ahead by a mile, technically. But unlike Casey, Alex had been a personal friend. Casey had rubbed Olivia up the wrong way from the moment she had walked onto the first crime scene. She was gung-ho, headstrong and too young for the job, with a tendency to speak before she thought.

Then there was how quickly Elliot had warmed to her.

Olivia wasn't jealous by nature, but she had to admit that she slightly begrudged the close bond Elliot had formed with the ADA, even more so now that she knew they were romantically involved. As much as she tried to hide it, she'd always had a bit of a thing for her partner, but of course, rules, and the fact that he was married, always dictated that nothing happened.

Olivia wasn't sure of the exact rules regarding dating your departments ADA, but she imagined it was frowned upon at least, if it came to light, defence lawyers would make things very difficult if Casey ever needed to call Elliot to give evidence.

But Elliot was willing to risk it for Casey, making Olivia wonder if the attraction between her and Elliot wasn't as mutual as she had always thought.

"So it's Alex then." Casey said, pulling Olivia from her thoughts.

"I said it wasn't a fair question." Olivia restated. The look on Casey's face was one of unexpected vulnerability.

"Yeah, but if you thought it was me, then you'd say so. But you just feel bad that you think Alex is better." Casey said.

"You're a good prosecutor too." Olivia said. For an instant, Casey looked hurt. Then her eyes clouded, and her expression quickly became neutral again. At first she thought Casey was just making conversation, she didn't realize her opinion would actually bother the ADA, and she felt a touch guilty despite herself.

"It's alright." Casey said, drawing her knees up to her chest and staring ahead blankly, "anyway, have you had anymore bright ideas about how to get out of here?" She asked, clearly eager to change the subject.

"I was thinking we find a dessert spoon, dig for China and hide our daily progress with the remains of that chair you broke." Olivia reeled off as seriously as she could.

"Liv, we're fucked aren't we?" Casey said, unimpressed with Olivia's admittedly weak joke.

"Yeah. A little bit." Olivia sighed, leaning her head back against the wall. Casey's appraisal of the situation was unfortunately rather accurate. But still, she had a little flicker of hope inside her. Elliot was still out there, and she knew he would give his life to save them, if that's what it took.

"Liv?" Casey said. Olivia exhaled heavily. Casey needed to learn the benefits of silent time. Olivia's body was begging her for sleep, whereas Casey had spent most of the last twenty-four hours unconscious and was most likely very well rested indeed.

"What?" She asked, ensuring she sounded as harassed as she felt.

"I'm scared." Casey practically whispered. Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, and Olivia knew she meant it. Olivia shuffled closer, hesitantly wrapping an arm around Casey's shoulder. For a moment, the other woman stiffened at her touch, perhaps surprised at the gesture. Then her muscles slackened, and she gently rested her head on Olivia's shoulder.

"Me too honey." Olivia admitted.

A WEEK AND THREE DAYS EARLIER

OLIVIA BENSON'S CAR, AN INDUSTRIAL ESTATE NEAR THE DOCKS

Once they rounded the corner and Olivia had brought the car to a possibly whiplash inducing halt, as instructed, Casey threw the door open and hopped out of the car, using her long stride and relative athleticism to catch up and keep pace with Olivia easily. As planned, the car following them rounded the corner blind at ridiculous speed, and with the narrowness of the track Olivia had parked the car in, the red Buick had no choice but to crash head on into the tail of the abandoned vehicle.

The sound of buckling metal and exploding glass was immense, followed by conspicuous silence and smoke rising from the wreckage.

From the vantage point the two had taken up at the end of the track, tucked in at the edge of one of the tall warehouses so they had cover if the car occupants began shooting again, Casey could see that the driver of the vehicle was not moving.

"Stay put," Olivia said, drawing her own weapon and cautiously starting toward the messy crash site. Before the detective had got halfway to the car, a man jumped out of the passenger seat, astonishingly sprightly considering the wreck he had just been in.

"Drop the gun!" She heard Olivia call out to the ski-masked man, who by now had his hands raised to ear height. His pistol clunked to the tarmac, and Olivia continued to approach slowly. Casey kept her eyes on the car, concerned that the driver might spring out at any moment.

"Novak!" She heard Olivia call out. Her eyes darted back to Olivia, who by now had the suspect cuffed to her trashed cars door. She jogged over to Olivia, gun held with both hands, but muzzle pointed at the ground, just in case.

"I'll cover you, can you check out the driver?" Olivia said, nodding at the Buick. The airbag had deployed, and the ski-masked driver was resting face first on it as though it was a pillow. He was conspicuously still. Casey nodded, handing her gun to Olivia and climbing into the passenger seat. She checked his pulse, but it was steady and strong.

He was just unconscious.

"He's alive." Casey said.

"Unmask him, lets see who this bastard is." Olivia said, still keeping the gun trained on him, eyes occasionally darting to the other suspect currently fastened to her wrecked vehicle.

Casey cautiously removed the black ski-mask. His face didn't look familiar, but that was no surprise.

Olivia was already unmasking the other suspect, who was similarly unidentifiable.

"What's your name?" Olivia demanded of the conscious man, gun levelled at his chest. He looked at her with a sneer.

"Your name is Olivia Benson, Junior Detective with the Manhattan NYPD Special Victim's unit, and that," He nodded in Casey's direction, "is Assistant District Attorney Casey Novak, also assigned to Sex crimes."

"I think we knew _that _already," Olivia said dryly. Casey tried to keep the concern off her face. It was disconcerting that members of M.I.T.P. recognized herself and Olivia. That meant, as Olivia had suspected, they were on their radar. "Alright fine, don't tell us, but you're still under arrest," she turned back to Casey, "Casey, call the precinct, tell them to send a squad car over." Olivia then grimaced at the car wreck. "And maybe tell them to send the fire department over so we can get speed racer over there out."

Casey pulled her cell out of her jacket, "shit, no signal." She said, loud enough so Olivia could hear. It was somewhat unsurprising, although the car chase had been short, it had been fast. They were in middle of a damned industrial site and the nearest phone mast was a good distance away. Casey had always wondered why the police used radio.

Olivia looked between Casey and the cuffed man, trying to look thoughtful while her mind raced. Both vehicles were unusable, her portable radio was at the station, and her car radio was likely ruined in the crash. Taking the prisoners back to the station on foot would be difficult, tedious, if not impossible. There was only one alternative.

"Alright, here's what we're gonna do," Olivia said, sounding surer than she was, "Casey, secure number two to the wheel, then I'll keep an eye on these clowns while you walk back toward the city until you can get a signal." Casey nodded and climbed into the passenger seat.

Satisfied that proceedings were going to plan, Olivia focused on the man secured to her now totalled vehicle.

"I think you better start explaining yourself no-name. We've got you on attempted assault, dangerous driving, possession of most likely illegal firearms…" Olivia's rhetoric was cut off by the sound of sudden movement behind her, she spun quickly back to the vehicle, and through the jagged frame of the shattered windscreen, she could see that the driver of the vehicle was now very much conscious and leaned across the passenger seat, pistol held against Casey's temple. Casey had her hands raised beside her shoulders and her eyes shut.

Shit.

Olivia had forgotten to search the other perp for a gun, it made sense that if one was carrying, so was the other. This was an unfortunate oversight.

"Drop the fucking gun!" The surprisingly hardy driver yelled. Olivia dared a quick glance over her shoulder. The man behind her looked sickeningly smug.

"Don't do anything stupid," Olivia said, keeping the gun aimed at the man in the car. She had a clear shot at his head. She could probably put him down, he was only yards away. She could almost definitely put him down.

But almost wasn't good enough.

Slowly, Olivia raised her free hand, in sight of the armed man, and leaned down placing her service glock on the tarmac, kicking it clear. It skittered noisily under the crumpled mess of the crashed cars.

Casey had been half terrified that Olivia might blow the mans head off while he was right there next to her, but now, with Olivia unarmed and the tables turned, she wished Olivia had, regardless of how traumatic that event might have been. The man in the car was around her age, with a few flecks or premature grey marring his otherwise carbon coloured close cut hair. He had eyes which were an almost white shade of sky blue, with wiry red veins that made them look bloodshot, though perhaps that was as a result of his very recent car crash.

"Out of the car." The man with the gun barked, nudging the muzzle of the gun against her head. She quickly obliged, keeping eye contact with Olivia, willing the Detective to invoke some sort of ninja move, like whip a Shuriken from her sleeve, or something equally as effective, and improbable. "Put your hands on the back of your head."

A WEEK AND THREE DAYS LATER

AN UNDERGROUD FACILITY SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK

Olivia had just managed to drop off to sleep, the thrumming pain in her leg having died down, her nerves too exhausted to send pain signals to her brain, when the door crashed open again. Olivia did not see the need for Elliot to make such a dramatic entrance, though now that he had her attention, she found herself unnerved by blank expression on his face, and the agitation in his movement, shifting his weight from foot to foot at an awkward pace.

"Casey," He said, nodding his head back toward the doorway, indicating her presence was required outside of the room again. Casey remained still next to Olivia, no doubt cautious after what had happened to her last time Elliot had taken her for a little jaunt. Olivia was surprised though, that Casey's battered state hadn't evoked surprise, anger, or any palpable reaction at all from her Partner. Olivia had been certain Elliot would see red the moment he caught sight of her injuries, but he seemed almost indifferent.

"Now," Elliot added, when Casey had still made no moves to even get to her feet, let alone exit the room.

Casey started at the jump in volume, and the annoyance in his tone.

Reluctantly, she got to her feet, biting back a curse as she straightened up, her cracked ribs sending new shocks of pain down her spine, imploring her to remain stationary. She ignored this, skirting past Elliot in the doorway in an odd, crab like fashion, something in her head didn't want her to turn her back on him again, just in case. He had a resolute look on his face, the same one she had seen just before he'd punched her, then thrashed the hell out of her with Hamilton's belt.

She stood, shoulders tensed, waiting for Elliot to follow her. She heard Olivia call his name, and he turned round, shooting her a glare which made her weak at the knees for all the wrong reasons.

"Stay here." He said levelly, pointing to the spot she was rooted to. She swallowed hard. Fuck, had it taken that little to break her? A couple of cracked ribs, an evil stare or two and a beating with a belt?

Casey continued to internally rebuke herself as Elliot crouched by his partner.

"El, why did you leave Casey alone with Hamilton?" Olivia said quietly, for fear that someone might catch a bit of their conversation in passing.

"I didn't," Elliot said, brows knitting into one. Now Olivia was confused too.

"Then how did…" Olivia started, only to be cut off by Elliot pressing a hand over her mouth.

"Liv, can you walk on that leg, yes or no?" He asked, removing his hand to facilitate a reply.

"I think so…" Olivia started.

"Good, take this key, when I bring Casey back, you and her get the hell out of here," He said, sliding a key into her jeans pocket out of the cameras sightline.

"If we escape using your keys, they'll know it was you that let us go," Olivia said, praying Elliot wasn't going for the kamikaze option. He had to know by now, Olivia wasn't about to let him sacrifice himself for her sake.

"They're Hamilton's," Elliot said.

"Well what if he notices you took them?" Olivia asked. Elliot sighed heavily, unable to hold eye contact.

"He won't. He's dead. Now as soon as I bring Casey back here, you two make a run for it. I'll be right behind you." Elliot said, straightening up and marching out the door to join Casey, slamming it behind him. Olivia wanted to ask him what happened to Hamilton, but she had a sick feeling that she already knew.


	15. Reruns

**A/N Sorry it's took so long! Haven't had the chance to write, but finally did today *does writing dance*.**

**Anyhow, this doesn't progress the plot much, as it's mostly flashback… but I felt it was needed… so yeah. **

**Oh, and review if you have a mo ;-)!**

_Chapter Fifteen: Reruns_

EARLIER THAT DAY

There was choking, gasping and spluttering, then nothing. Silence.

Hamilton's body became a heavy weight. A dead weight. Elliot released the belt and let him thump to the ground. Hamilton's empty eyes stared judgementally up as Elliot reached down and unclipped a cluttered keyring from his belt loop.

He had to do it. If he hadn't, Hamilton was going to blow his cover, and then they were all screwed.

He had to do it, he was forced. That was Elliot's mantra now. Necessary force. Those words were soothing. His hands were sore, but that was barely a distraction. He stepped over the lifeless body of Hamilton, and tried to focus his thoughts.

He had to do it. He had to kill the bastard.

But he didn't have to enjoy it.

But he had.

Fuck it, he had more important things to think about now, like getting Casey and Olivia out of here before anyone noticed the now departed Colin Hamilton was missing. He locked the door behind him and jogged his way to the holding rooms.

LATER THAT DAY

Casey watched the dialogue between Elliot and Olivia, then Elliot turned on his heel, joining her in the hall and swinging the door shut with a nerve shattering bang.

"Listen carefully Casey," Elliot said in a low voice, leading her down the hall by her arm, careful to exert only the lightest pressure. "You need to memorise the way outta here, you'll need to take this hall, stop off at the armoury," he pointed to a door they had just passed, "there's guns in there, and vests, make sure you get vests, you hear me?" Elliot asked, stopping and bring her round to face him, lightly tilting her chin up. "Casey, you listening?" He asked, trying to meet her eyes.

"Yes," Casey said, swatting his hand off. Elliot took her arm again, and led her back to the armoury, gently pushing her inside and locking the door behind him, pausing for a moment, his back to her. She willed her heart to stop racing and her hands to stop shaking.

"What's the matter?" Elliot asked, approaching slowly, looking troubled. Casey's eyes fell to his hands, hanging at his sides. His knuckles were reddened, and his palms looked sore. From his using them on her.

Of course, it wasn't his fault. He had to do it, and Casey felt guilty even as she pushed the same hand away as he tried to touch her face.

"Hey, hey," He said soothingly, pulling her into his arms, pressing her face into his chest. She ignored the pain from her cracked ribs and remained silent. "We're gonna be okay aren't we?" He asked. She could hear his voice vibrating in his chest.

"Yeah, of course we are," She lied in a forced monotone, shutting her eyes. She'd said this once before, but this time, she hoped she could make good on it.

SIX YEARS AGO

THE APARTMENT OF ADA CASEY NOVAK

Casey awoke to a hand clamping hard around her neck, and desperate whispering wet lips brushing against her ear.

"Are you one of them?" The voice asked, heavy with suspicion. It was familiar, yet completely unknown at the same time. She knew better than to answer in the affirmative, or negative. There was no right answer.

"Let go," She choked out, trying not to panic as her need for oxygen became more pressing by the second. She brought her hands up to her neck, attempting to prise his hand off.

Shit plan.

He readjusted his grip, positioning his body over hers. Even in the darkness of the bedroom, she could see his eyes darting about wildly, and a glimmer of perspiration on his forehead. Casey knew that was not a good sign.

"Are. You. One. Of. Them?" He asked again, each word deliberate and insistent. He was so gone, he probably didn't realize he was resting all of his sizable weight on Casey, restricting her breath to shallow gulps. She put her hands on his shoulders and attempted to push him off, but it was useless.

"Charlie, you're hurting me," She said imploringly, hoping she might reach the sane side of her fiancé.

"How do you know my name?" He yelled, alarmingly loudly. Shit. He was going to wake the fucking neighbours. Thus far, at Charlie's urging, Casey had managed to keep his diagnoses of paranoid schizophrenia between them. His doctor had suggested he be institutionalised, just until they got him medicated properly, but Charlie hadn't wanted that. Going away would mean telling his parents, their friends. No one would ever look at him the same way, even after he was fully medicated and functioning. So Casey had agreed to look after him until he was better. It would only take a few weeks for him to adjust to the medication, then he'd be fine. Back to normal.

That is, if he'd actually take his fucking medication.

Casey had gently asked him if he had been taking it (after he had taken a strange turn and slapped her around, accusing her of being a ghost) and he had cagily replied that they made him feel ill.

Somehow, a little bit of a tummy upset seemed far preferable to a psychotic break. But Casey felt guilty complaining about being roughed up a little. If his behaviour had scared her, it must have been ten times more frightening for Charlie himself, being out of control of his actions. Losing time. Waking up in strange places and not knowing how he got there. A few bruises were nothing compared to that, so Casey had let it drop. Unfortunately, it seemed he still hadn't learnt his lesson.

"If I let you go, you'll just slide through the wall, back to the other dimension, with the other ghosts, you know?" He babbled, "they're coming for me aren't they? Aren't they!?"

Casey shut her eyes and lay as still as possible, hoping he'd stop if she didn't say anything to facilitate his delusions.

"No, no, no, I know what you're doing!" He yelled. She felt the pressure on top of her disappear. She opened her eyes to see Charlie stood by the bed, shivering. Slowly, she sat up, ensuring he wouldn't have the opportunity to pin her again.

"Charlie, it's me, Casey," She said evenly.

"No." He replied.

"It is." Casey said, reaching out to take one of his hands. As soon as she made contact, he jerked away as if he'd been touched by acid.

"You liar, you fucking liar!" He snapped suddenly, lunging forward and catching her in the eye with a fist. Everything went dark for a moment, then there was an explosion of light and stars which would have been beautiful were they not accompanied by an explosion of pain. The blow had knocked her across the bed lengthways, and Charlie had jumped on top of her again, landing a few more blows before stopping, out of breath.

"Charlie please," She begged, blinking hard. Blood was trickling down from a gash above her eye, pooling in her eye socket. She was going to have one hell of a shiner to explain away tomorrow as well.

"We have to get it out of you." He said, very sombrely, looking around the room, neck twisting about frantically. He hopped off her and dashed out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Casey took the opportunity to lock herself in the bathroom. Once there, she examined herself in the mirror, starting at the volume of blood. She ran the cold tap, splashing icy water against her face, hoping to numb the pain and reduce the swelling.

The sink looked like someone had goddamn killed someone in it when she was done. She had opened the medicine cabinet above, to locate gauze to tape over the wound to stem the bleeding, when she heard a violent, urgent banging on the bathroom door.

"Let me in!" Charlie yelled from the other side. She heard a louder bang. He was hurling himself against the door. Casey looked at the flimsy slide-across bolt, wondering if it would hold.

She didn't need to wait long to find out.

With another slam, Charlie was through, the bolt snapped off the door and her fiancé stumbled in, a knife glittering in one hand.

"The ghost, the ghost baby, we have to get it out!" He said, by way of explanation. He grabbed her arms, dragging her out of the bathroom, and pushed her onto the bedroom floor.

"Charlie give me the knife, don't…" He cut her off, covering her mouth with his free hand.

"Shut up!" He yelled. He was now sat straddling her, using his knife bearing hand to roll her top up. "We have to get it out, the ghost, the ghosts, they're all there, feeding on you, they want to feed!" He said. "They need to come out." He pressed the blade against her bare stomach, sweeping it across quickly, making a thin, red horizontal line.

"Fuck!" Casey bit out, muffled by Charlie's hand. Charlie was staring at the wound as blood began to surface, mesmerised.

"No, no, it's not deep enough," He decided. He brought the blade down, about to make another incision, when there was a loud banging on their apartments front door.

"Police, open up!" A voice called. Casey breathed a sigh of relief.

"No! No! No!" Charlie yelled, hoping up and running to the door. As quickly as she could in her injured state, Casey got to her feet, hot on Charlie's heels. If he killed a police officer, there was no way she was going to be able to keep his illness a secret. Or keep him out of an institution for that matter.

When she arrived in the living room, Charlie had already been relieved of his knife, and was cuffed, face pressed against the wall by an officer. Another had his gun drawn, but was now holstering it. He turned to Casey, wincing at her injuries.

"Ma'am, we got a call from your neighbours, said there was a disturbance," He said.

"It's not what it looks like, he's ill," Casey explained, suddenly starting to feel faint. She wondered if it was from the loss of blood, or from the prospect of having to explain this away.

"I'm afraid we're going to have to take him in, and get you medical attention, that head wound looks pre…" She cut him off.

"Look, I'm an ADA, Casey Novak. I work in the white collar crimes division," She fumbled in the nearby drawer, retrieving her ID. The cop looked it over, nodding and handing it back to her. "Please, can you just do me a favour and not bring him in? He's schizophrenic, I can show you his medication if you need proof. He just forgot to take it this morning, I swear," Casey said. The Cop looked between her and Charlie, who had suddenly gone quiet.

"Alright," He said, finally. "But you need medical attention. I'm gonna call a bus."

"Thank you." Casey said, slumping down onto the sofa, legs no longer able to support her.

BELLVUE HOSPITAL

"…And Keep putting ice on it." The Doctor added to her departing back as she made her way out. The doctors had patched her up and dosed her up with pain killers. She had needed thirteen stitches in the slash wound Charlie had made on her stomach, and the Doctor had warned her it was likely to scar. That and she was due in work tomorrow, with a massive fucking black eye like a Cyclops panda. She just wanted to get the hell home and into bed and forget all about this.

When she got out to the hallway she found Charlie was waiting for her. His stance, and stillness gave away that he was now medicated, and lucid. His eyes looked pained. As soon as she was close enough, he enveloped her in a bear hug, face pressed against her neck.

"I'm so sorry," He whispered over and over. Casey felt warm tears trickling from his eyes onto her neck, dribbling down onto her blouse. She hugged him back, trying not to act tense, even though hours ago he was threatening her life. It wasn't his fault, and he obviously felt guilty enough about it. He didn't need her making him feel any worse.

"Are we going to be okay?" He asked, voice muffled by her hair but still achingly vulnerable.

"Yeah, of course we will be." Casey replied, without a second thought.


	16. I don't like mondays

**A/N So here's another update, back to the present again, with only limited tangents (hopefully the flashbacks help to explain character motivation, and don't just feel like random jaunts into the past!). Oh, and if any part of this chapter seems a bit random, it shall be explained later!**

**And apologies for this chapter being a bit boring… "essential to progress the plot" I'm afraid. **

**Oh, and the writing dance is kind of like the Macarena, combined with elements of "cauldroning", but a little bit more freestyle. Try it!**

_Chapter Sixteen: I Don't Like Mondays_

SIX YEARS LATER

AN UNDERGROUND FACILITY SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK

Snapping out of her memories, Elliot was still talking, reiterating the plan,

"Once you're out, head back to New York, and call the precinct, tell them we…"

Casey cut in, "Wait a minute, we're not in New York?"

Elliot shook his head, "no, Washington. Sorry, you were unconscious on the way over here."

"No wonder it was so damned hard to find you," Casey said.

A WEEK AND THREE DAYS PRIOR

AN INDUSTRIAL ESTATE IN MANHATTAN

This wasn't good, and it didn't take a police officer to make that assessment of the situation.

Olivia and Casey were both on their knees on the tarmac, hands behind their heads, while the two men paced excitedly. It seemed the assailants hadn't thought their plan out very well. Now that they had captured their quarry, they seemed at a loss as to what to do with them.

Casey was looking at her expectantly, her green eyes wide. The court room was Casey's territory, the field was Olivia's. Too bad for them, then, that she was stuck for ideas.

Luckily, it seemed the M.I.T.P. crew were now facing a similar dilemma to the one faced by Olivia when the situation was reversed. No transport, no means of communication, and two captives. The man who was originally the driver had freed his companion, and now had his gun, aimed at she and Novak.

"Alright, don't do anything stupid," he said. Olivia felt this was slightly redundant. She had already gone on the trail of a suspected murderous, women hating group, off the books with only a prosecuting attorney with all the combat skills of a grey squirrel as back up. Her stupid quota was overflowing for the day.

The driver unclipped the unused cuffs on Casey's belt.

"Sit facing each other." The driver said, pointing the gun between them, a subtle threat in case of non-compliance. Casey looked as puzzled as she did as they both sat down, facing one another. The driver cast the cuffs down on the tarmac between them, along with Olivia's cuffs originally used to restrain the now freed passenger of the vehicle. "Cuff your left hand to her right, and your right to her left." He instructed Olivia, shaking his head suddenly, as though he had confused himself for a moment. Sighing, Olivia complied with his command, cuffing her wrists to Casey's, and realizing that this arrangement was going to make escape awkward, which was likely the Drivers intention.

The driver returned to his compatriot, and both conferred in whispers, until Olivia heard a sound that might as well have been a hallelujah chorus.

Police sirens.

Both men looked panicked, but to her surprise, and faint relief (she had been concerned they'd wind up in a hostage situation), they took off running, disappearing between the warehouses. The sirens got progressively louder, until a squad car appeared at the neck of the ally, parking behind the co-joined remains of Olivia's and the attackers vehicles.

"Well that's convenient." Casey said, calm again. Olivia got to her feet, tugging the Lawyer up with her. The situation was embarrassing enough without compounding it by being sat on their asses. The uniformed Cops approached, guns drawn.

"'I'm detective Olivia Benson, this is ADA Novak," Olivia called out as the officer approached, keeping her hands visible all the same. She didn't want to make a move for her badge and get winged by an overenthusiastic rookie. "My ID's in my pocket." Olivia said. The officer reached into her jeans, flipping her badge open, then returned it.

"Oh, sorry detective." He said, lowering his pistol and gesturing for his partner to do the same.

"Think you could uncuff us officer?" Olivia asked.

"Um, do you know where the keys are?" The detective asked.

Olivia blinked, "shit. I think the perps took them. You got a set of bolt cutters?"

The Officer shook his head, trying to hide a smile, "sorry detective, not something we carry in the squad car. We ought to have some back at the precinct, but you and the counsellor are going to have to ride back there as you are."

"Fine." Olivia ground out, following the Officer who was now chuckling openly. The guys back at the precinct were going to die laughing.

THE SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT SQUADROOM

"Do I _want_ an explanation?" Captain Don Cragen asked the two women stood sheepishly in front of him. Detective Benson and ADA Novak, through some strange turn of events, had been found halfway across New York, next to two totalled cars, handcuffed to one another. They still were in fact. Detective Tutulola had been tasked with locating a set of bolt cutters, but he was taking his time, it seemed he'd been as entertained by their predicament as the traffic officers who'd picked them up.

"Casey and I were going to coffee when this guy came out of nowhere and put the window through with a baseball bat," Benson explained. Casey was nodding along as the detective explained the rest of the story, the high speed chase, the supposedly unconscious driver, the reversal of fates, and then the convenient arrival of back up.

"Just like that?" Cragen asked, watching Olivia carefully. She had been under his command for some time, he had her ticket. There was something she wasn't telling him, but he'd be damned if he could figure out what.

He was pretty sure this had something to do with the disappearance of Stabler, but the ADA's involvement was a mystery. As long as she'd been the squads ADA, Novak had shown a propensity to keeping her hands clean, and the Captain could not see a single reason Novak would risk her job embroiling herself in some ill-thought out, half-baked, off the record wild goose chase with Olivia.

Perhaps his instincts were wrong, and they were just going for coffee.

Trouble always seemed to follow Benson, it wouldn't be the first time.

"Fine. Crime scene are over at the crash site, Munch is running the reg details on the other car. Novak, you're free to go, Olivia, I need you to run the descriptions of our perps through the database, see if it matches up with any recent carjacking incidents…"

"I think this has something to do with M.I.T.P." Benson interrupted.

"What makes you say that?" Cragen asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Uh, Colin Hamilton was in the coffee place." Olivia said, casting her eyes down.

"Our number one suspect, who we had to cut loose just _happened_ to be at the same coffee place, of all the hundreds of coffee places in New York?" Cragen asked, incredulously. Benson was silent, biting her lower lip. Caught out.

"Novak, can we have a moment please." Cragen said, in his low, 'meaning business' voice.

The Counsellor raised an eyebrow at him, "uh, not really." She said, voice dripping with sarcasm, holding her still cuffed wrists up, pulling Benson's up simultaneously.

"Fine. This is for both of you then," Cragen said, "if I find out you two have been trailing Hamilton off the books you're in a world of trouble." When he saw a hint of a cocky smile on Novak's face he added, "that goes for you too counsellor, Jack McCoy is a personal friend, and you're on thin ice as it is, don't make me make that call." That seemed to sober the young woman up. She redirected her gaze to her feet. Satisfied that he had made his point, he finished, "we're done."

Both women scampered hurriedly out the door, and only once the door had shut behind him, did he allow himself a quick chuckle at their quandary.

TWO DAYS LATER

After the dressing down Cragen had given her, Casey had been hesitant to continue their search for Elliot. She had tried his cell, turned off, and it hadn't changed all weekend. Olivia had been busy at the squadroom for the rest of the weekend, trying to identify the two that had chased them, and Casey had an unavoidable appointment to have dinner with her parents.

It had been untenably awkward, her mother had been jumpy all evening, asking bizarre questions. Strangely enough, many had been about Detective Benson, which was doubly peculiar when Casey considered that she was pretty damn certain she had never mentioned any of her co-workers by name.

But now Monday had rolled around, and Casey was on her push bike, heading into the office.

Darting through traffic, trying not to get sideswiped by psychotic taxi drivers was a welcome occupation for her mind, which would otherwise be racing about what the office, and the courtroom held for her today.

The office was near empty, which was unsurprising, considering Casey had arrived an hour before she officially started work at eight thirty, as was her custom. As much as she didn't like to admit it, she needed the extra time, so much of her work boiled down to epic, rainforest annihilating quantities of paperwork that she began to doubt the wisdom of her decision to become a lawyer in the first place.

She shook those thoughts out of her head, that was unhelpful.

It was all fine once she walked into the courtroom. She was at home there. The paperwork part was just an inconvenient aside to the job. She breathed in the calm as she walked through the silent, empty halls, opening her office door to find her tranquillity immediately shattered.

Her voicemail was blinking.

And there was only one person who got into the office before she did.

Hesitantly, Casey hit speakerphone and playback on her phone, tossing her empty paper coffee cup into the trash and hanging her coat up as her supervisors voice filled the room.

"Novak, there is a meeting in my office at nine am this morning." Then he clicked off. Casey sat down at her desk and brought her watch up.

7:33am.

Fuck.

Now she had an hour and a half to stew, wondering what the meeting would be about. The only comfort she could take from the horrible scenarios that were swirling around in her caffeine addled mind was that it could not possibly be as bad as she was imagining.

She quickly set her fingers to the keyboard and began to type. She had three, _three _arraignments to write up, and the secretary was off (and had been for a week), meaning she could not just dictate it to tape and leave to be audio-typed whilst she was otherwise engaged as she normally did.

The screen blurred in front of her.

She hoped that Cragen hadn't changed his mind and called McCoy after all. She didn't need another hauling over the proverbial coals. Her nerves were shot as it was, with Elliot missing, a lot of her cases going south, and a goddamned ominous meeting request she couldn't get out of her head.

Fuck.

She needed more fucking coffee.

She needed to fucking focus.

She hit backspace.

She _really _needed to not type the word 'fuck' into official court documents. She'd got distracted and done it before, and been saved only by the said absent secretary catching it before it was sent to the Judge.

This was useless.

Her watch read 7:54, her extra time was slipping away. She focused on the words appearing painfully slow on screen as she pawed listlessly at the keyboard.

She was never going to get the three documents written up in time.

Fuck it, she'd blame it on McCoy's own meeting. She had gotten surprisingly good at making up excuses, and she even allowed herself a mental pat on the back for that one.

AN HOUR AND A HALF LATER

The meeting, as it turned out, was not specific to herself, and when Casey got McCoy's office, she had found to her relief that the rest of the ADA's had been called in too. She was kicking herself throughout the routine catch up meeting, which apparently, McCoy had decided to hold on a monthly basis from now on. It was tedious in the extreme, but at least he hadn't called her in for a ticking off.

"Ok, back to work," McCoy said, finally calling time on the snore fest that had been the catch-up meeting. Casey shot up from her seat, eager to make up for lost time with her arraignment papers, when McCoy added, "except for you Novak, we need to have a quick chat." Casey froze. A 'chat' with your boss was never, ever a good thing. The other ADA's cast her sympathetic glances as they quickly scurried out of the room. Casey slumped back down in her seat, feeling like she was back in school. That feeling was further enhanced when McCoy slid a document across the table to her, illuminated by underlines and words circled in red marker.

"Look familiar?" McCoy said. Casey swallowed hard.

"It's a subpoena I issued last week." Casey said, fidgeting with her hands under the desk, trying to keep a calm, distant look on her face.

"That's right. And those are the typos." He said, pointing at the red marks glaring up from the page.

"I was in a rush," Casey shrugged, suddenly desperate for a hole to open up underneath her.

"If it was just this single document, I wouldn't need to talk to you about it," McCoy said, face remaining passive. "Casey, you might be eager to rush through the paperwork and get down to business, but this makes our office look unprofessional. And there have been complaints from a few judges. The least you could do is run a spellchecker over it, it only takes a second."

"I will in future," Casey said, voice inflectionless, calculating her words carefully, slowly. She did not want McCoy to realize she was on the brink of tears. She just needed to focus. Stare blankly ahead. Agree with him until he let her escape to her office.

"Good," McCoy nodded, "you've been doing outstandingly in court, and I'd hate to mark you down in your next review for poor spelling and grammar, I know it's not the main focus of your job, but your documents need to be at least legible. Take some time, read it through before you hit send or print. Is that understood?" He asked.

"Yes sir," Casey said, quickly getting to her feet and walking out the door as quickly as she could without exceeding walking speed. Running would attract attention. Attention she didn't need when a few tears had already escaped.

She thanked god silently that her office was so close to McCoy's.

This was not a good Monday morning.

THE SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT SQUADROOM

This was not a good Monday afternoon.

Olivia sat at her desk, trying to ignore the empty space ahead of her and focus on the job at hand.

Over the weekend, another case had come in, it was pretty clear cut case of statutory rape, they had DNA evidence, and even though the perp wasn't denying the rape, Novak (who had been unreasonably pissy when Olivia had called in earlier) wasn't even entertaining a plea, it was a dead cert conviction, and Olivia had almost wrapped up her report.

Which left her free to worry about the most pressing issue (well, second to Elliot's absence of course) playing on her mind. Kurt's lease ran out yesterday.

He now officially lived with her.

And yesterday, he had celebrated that fact by throwing an empty glass at her.

_At the wall_ she corrected herself. There was no need for dramatizing the event. She had just happened to be near the wall he threw it at, he hadn't _actually_been aiming for her. He was so drunk he wouldn't have known which of the four of her to throw it at anyway, she thought, amusing herself.

It was okay though, she'd deal with it. Once Elliot was back home safe, and everything was back to normal, and Kurt was sober, she'd have a peaceful, adult discussion with him. He'd move out to give her some breathing space, then she'd break up with him.

It was easier to do it in degrees.


	17. Professionals

**A/N I am way too sleepy to write an authors note with any level of eloquence, so I shall not attempt it… **

**Oh yeah, and you know where the review button is ;-)**

_Chapter Seventeen: Professionals_

THE COURTHOUSE

Casey was in court for the fourth time today, and wondering why she'd even bothered to leave between cases, she could have saved herself several trips just running the arraignments back to back. She wondered if Judge Petrovsky did group discounts for bulk bookings.

Perched at the prosecution desk, Casey heard the bailiff languidly announce the name of the defendant and the case number in a low, uninterested baritone, but she was only half paying attention. She thumbed through the documents idly, the monochrome pages blurring into a mess, annotated with last minute scribbles and bright yellow post-its. She glanced down at her notepad and felt her cheeks flare with embarrassment, despite her being the only one privy to its silly, utterly school girl scrawling. She quickly scribbled out what she had doodled down absently during a particularly arduous witness testimony earlier that day.

It was something she, and no doubt countless other smitten preteens had often done in the past when a particular boy had taken their fancy. Writing down her first name, with the surname of said romantic interest. Just to see if it would _go. _How it would sound, how it would look written. There, in the margin of her notes, she had written _Casey Stabler._

God, she'd got it bad.

There was of course, the matter of his presently unknown whereabouts, but Casey was quite certain no harm had come to him. He was likely just taking some time out. At least, that's what she was telling herself so she could stop worrying and get some goddamn work done.

"Miss Novak, where do the people stand on bail?" The Judge asked, in strained, unimpressed tones that suggested she was repeating herself. Casey quickly glanced up, flashing thoughtful look, hoping she might be able to pass off the pregnant pause as a deliberate, meditative silence, and not give away that she had actually lost the thread of the proceedings due to her mind being elsewhere. She glanced down at her notes, then cleared her throat deliberately.

"The people request remand Your Honour. The defendant raped a helpless elderly woman, and this is his _third _sexually based offence…"

"Miss Novak, please look to your left." The Judge said, sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose. Casey turned to the defence.

Shit.

Defence Attorney Trevor Langan stood, slack jawed in surprise next to his client. Maria Friedman. A school teacher due to be arraigned on charges of statutory rape of one of her students.

She'd read the wrong damned notes.

"My apologies," Casey said, her face felt so hot that she was certain she was blushing right up to her forehead. "The people have no objections to the defendant being released on her own recognizance. This is her first offence, and the people do not believe she poses a flight risk."

"Alright," Judge Petrovsky said, smiling slightly at her slip up. As Langan and his client departed, Olivia appeared from seemingly nowhere, trying ineffectually to reign in a giggle.

"Hey, you done for the day?" Olivia asked.

"Near enough. Any word from Elliot?" Casey asked, tucking a heavy binder under one arm.

Olivia winced and shook her head, "not a peep. I called Kathy, over the weekend. She hasn't seen him either."

"Any more leads?" Casey asked, following Olivia as she headed for the tall courtroom doors, a bailiff kindly stepping ahead of them and wrenching the door open.

"Thanks, no, not on Elliot specifically, but we've had some movement on the Bassett murder."

"Go on,"

"Well, we got the video, and the tech lab isolated some ambient noise in the background, apparently it suggests the electricity where the video was shot was being supplied by a power generator."

"So?" Casey asked, wondering how that was relevant. Olivia shrugged.

"Well, it narrows down the locations a lot. Not only that, I've been reading through more of Vander's articles,"

"Lucky you, brainwashed yet?" Casey asked, with a wry smile.

"Nearly there," Olivia said "but get this, several statements in his articles are repeated by our vic nearly _verbatim _on the video tape. That enough bring him in?" Olivia halted atop the hill of the white-wash courtroom stairs. Casey considered it.

"Maybe. But Vander's lawyers just going to make the point, that while Vander wrote the pieces, _anyone_ with an internet connection could have read them and forced Bassett and our other victims to read statements from it,"

Olivia looked deflated. "You sure you can't…"

"Liv, it's been a long day, alright? That link in tenuous at best, and if we bring him in, his lawyers just going figure out with have no evidence and clam up until we have to let him go. And I just want to get home right now, so if there's nothing else…"

"No, it's fine counsellor." Olivia said, turning on her heel and abruptly starting down the stairs. Casey didn't follow her, she was exhausted, and McCoy's reprimand was still weighing heavy on her mind. She just wanted to crawl into the bath, with a glass (or maybe a couple of glasses) of rich, red wine to fog her thoughts up enough that she'd be able to fall into some semblance of sleep and have a better day tomorrow.

TWO HOURS LATER

THE APARTMENT OF OLIVIA BENSON

Olivia had hung around the office for as long as she reasonably could. That is, until Captain Cragen kicked her out, mistaking her reluctance to return to her occupied apartment for dedication to locating her missing comrade.

By now, she didn't even try her key in the door, she just knocked tentatively, body tense, wondering what mood Kurt might be in when he finally bothered to let her in. It took about a minute this time round. He swung the door open abruptly, surprising her by immediately pulling her in through the door, kissing her messily on the lips.

"You're home!" He announced directly into her face. He smelt like a fucking off license, but she suppressed her disgust. For all she knew, this was a particularly overplayed bout of sarcasm on his part. She didn't need him throwing another tantrum, not now.

Her head was pounding angrily, and Olivia knew she'd be easy to rile in her present state. Best to play along and hope he passed out, which, from the unsteadiness of his gait and the half lidded drowsiness of his eyes, shouldn't take too long.

"Sorry I'm late, a case was dragging on," Olivia explained, trying to extricate herself from his arms. He leaned on her lazily, tangling a hand in the hair at the nape of her neck and plastering her lips and the general vicinity of them with sloppy kisses. It wasn't unlike being slavered on by an overenthusiastic Alsatian, except his mouth tasted of sour whisky.

Unsurprisingly, Olivia was not exactly turned on. She wasn't sure which she liked less, coming home to him angry, or horny.

He pulled at her blouse, trying to work the buttons, but in his uncoordinated state, he failed miserably. Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, running through her options. She did not want to sleep with him.

She thought back to a few nights ago, the sensations were still fresh in her memory. His body on top of hers, naked, clammy with perspiration. Him panting wetly in her ear, making indistinct moaning sounds, lost in his own private world, occasionally clutching clumsily at her breasts, uncoordinated with his inebriation, his touch either too rough or too soft. And then, to round the whole sordid act off with the ultimate indignation, he would fall asleep on top of her, his full body weight pinning her, forcing Olivia to muster all her strength to lift him off and push him aside like he was the lid of a damned sarcophagus just so she could get some air.

Not tonight, she just couldn't deal with that tonight. But he wasn't about to take no for an answer, and she didn't need him fucking pissed off again.

He was already swaying on his feet, and it didn't take much effort to push him back onto the sofa. He landed with a muted whoosh of air escaping cushions, grinning inanely. Olivia steeled herself, climbing onto the sofa next to him, while he just smiled dopily at her. It was a necessary evil, and less unpleasant, and invasive than the alternative.

Olivia swallowed her pride, and prayed that's all she'd have to swallow tonight as she unbuckled Kurt's belt.

LATER THAT NIGHT

Olivia was nearly done brushing her teeth for the second time in a row, though she still felt anything but clean. She spat, and spat again, before rinsing.

She didn't look in the mirror before she left the bathroom, she didn't want to catch he reflection just now. About the only positive she could draw from the nights events was that, after Kurt's 'needs' had been met, he had dozed off on the sofa, leaving Olivia free to sprawl out in her own bed like she owned it again.

The negative was, Olivia no longer needed to ask Kurt why, despite his being the Chief Editor of a National Paper, he always managed to beat her home and never seemed to work any overtime.

She had picked up a copy of the Paper which Employed Kurt as Chief. Well. _Had _employed Kurt as Chief.

He'd been fired.

Right there, on the fifth page in, the paper announced the appointment of it's new Chief Editor. That would explain why he was at leisure to lounge around pickling himself in her (well, _their_) apartment,

She wondered when he was planning on fucking telling her. Olivia climbed into her bed, stretching out star shaped just for the hell of it, strange how she always thought she hated sleeping alone, but as soon as it no longer was an option, it became a luxury.

One thing was for sure, she wasn't going to bring it up before he did.

She had enough on her plate as it was, with Elliot going missing, major cases, and the little fact that she had a biological half sister who was blissfully unaware of their relation.

Yes, her hands were full and so was her mind, but since becoming a Police Officer, she'd developed a knack for falling asleep virtually on command, so she could snatch a few hours when needed to recharge on a round the clock case. Within minutes, she was drifting off into a thankfully dreamless sleep, hoping tomorrow would be a better day all round.


	18. Closer

**A/N Ok, apologies for the brevity of this chapter, haven't had enough time to write a sizable one just yet…. **

**Oh yes, and thanks for reading! It fills me with an undue amount of happiness…**

_Chapter Eighteen: Closer_

THE NEXT DAY

"Peluso, do I need to bullet point the type of cases which fall into my remit and post them on your office door?" Casey asked, placing a beige manila folder down on the admirably neat desk of ADA Brian Peluso. He was a good lawyer, although a little irresponsible if certain office rumours were to be believed. He was tall, with wet look gelled black hair, and a prominent, almost caricature sized chin which was permanently adorned with a neatly kept goatee. What he didn't have in classic good looks, he made up for in bold overconfidence.

"What, it's a _sex crime._ There was sex, and it was a crime." He countered innocently, seemingly amused by Casey's annoyance. "Jack wants us to prosecute it."

"I'm not saying it shouldn't be prosecuted, I'm saying I'm not going to do it. And besides, McCoy wants _you_ to prosecute this, not 'us'." Casey corrected, sliding the folder over to him. "I only do humans." She added, immediately cringing as she heard how the words sounded out loud. Peluso's face opened up into a wide, boomerang shaped grin.

"Now if only Daniel Gerber felt the same," He said wistfully, referencing the defendant in the case in question. "Come on Novak, I can't prosecute this. The guy posted a range of videos of himself 'servicing' his pet Chihuahua on a niche porn website, though, you'll be glad to know, the Chihuahua is now in the care of animal services. How am I supposed to keep a straight face talking to the jury about how he 'violated' ChiChi?"

Casey frowned, "how would you feel if it was your pet, being subjected to that? The poor little dog wouldn't have even known what was happening, or why…"

"See, see!" Peluso held his hands out toward her in a worshipful fashion, "that is a goddamn gift Casey. They don't teach that at law school." He said, alluding to the calm, yet carefully weighted delivery of her assessment of the case.

"It's called sympathy for the victim Peluso, try it sometime." Casey fired back.

"Come on Casey, you are the _only_ ADA in the building that could prosecute this case without busting a gut in the courtroom." Brian pleaded.

"Flattery will get you nowhere Brian," Casey said, smiling back over her shoulder as she departed.

It wasn't just that the case didn't fall under her remit, Casey did not need any extra work. Arriving back at her office, she was surprised her broad mahogany desk wasn't bowing under the weight of the mountain of binders, files and reference books stacked upon it. She set her coffee down, and looked longingly at the glorious shredder set next her filing cabinets, fantasizing for a moment about feeding every damn motion and case file through it, page by page then purchasing an obscene number of Russian dwarf hamsters to utilize the proceeds as bedding.

Too bad she wasn't fond of rodents.

Just as she sank into the comforting plush leather of her desk chair, the door swung open, and without a hint of propriety, Olivia strolled in, two tall Starbucks labelled paper cups (no doubt filled with coffee strong enough to reanimate the recently departed) in hands.

"Hey Casey," She greeted, beaming brightly. Too brightly. It was patently obvious to Casey that she wanted something. Casey resisted the urge to place her head down on the table in defeat.

"What do you need?" Casey asked, making no effort to mask her frustration. Olivia shrugged.

"What makes you think we need anything?" Olivia asked nonchalant. She placed a coffee down in the last spare space on Casey's cluttered desk . Now Casey was _positive _she wanted something. Something that would likely require copious effort, Olivia's level of friendliness could generally be used as a barometer to determine how difficult a favour she was looking to procure.

"Because," Casey said, nodding to the coffee cup on the desk, "you're plying me with hot, store-bought, caffeinated beverages."

"Actually," She said, taking up residence on the leather couch set against the far wall of Casey's office. "I came over to see if you needed any help."

"You could stop arresting so many people," Casey joked, "I'm up to my ass here."

"Anything I can help with?" Olivia asked, eyeing the mountains of paperwork on the desk.

"Are you in possession of a Law Degree I wasn't aware of?" Casey asked sarcastically.

Olivia frowned a little at her offhandedness, "hey, sorry for asking. I just thought you might appreciate a little assistance, since we're not too busy in the squadroom at the minute." She said tetchily, rising from the sofa. There was something strange about Olivia's offer for help, but Casey couldn't quite figure out what precisely. It just didn't sit right.

"What makes you think I need any help?" Casey asked.

"You just said you were swamped." Olivia shrugged, playing with the lid of her coffee idly.

"I usually am," Casey said, observing Olivia closely. Her black coffee coloured eyes were focused away, blindly staring toward the wall which housed Casey's certificates and sundry framed photos. Casey had had enough. "All right Olivia, what the hell is going on?"

"Nothing, I just heard you might be…struggling a little." Olivia said, fumbling for words with an out of character awkwardness. Casey felt her face flush, and wasn't sure if she was blushing with embarrassment, or anger. She thought back to her humiliating encounter with McCoy the previous day, and that only supplemented her irritation.

"Heard from who?" Casey asked, narrowing her eyes at the Detective.

"Your Mother," Olivia blurted out. Casey's mouth hung open. She hadn't been expecting that one.

"What? When the hell did you speak to my mom?" Casey asked, shocked. She focused on her breathing, trying hard as hell not to lose her temper. Sure, she and Olivia were getting on, massively better than they ever had, and yes, she might even now think of the Detective as a friend, but that didn't give her the right to start invading Casey's personal life. Closer than that. Her _family_ life. On the upside, at least that explained her mothers odd behaviour at Dinner on Sunday.

It was now or never, but with the fiery Attorney staring daggers at her over the cluttered desk, Olivia felt her nerve slipping away.

"Never mind," Olivia muttered lamely, wondering how she could extricate herself from this conversational corner. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why the hell had she told Casey she had spoken to her mother? There was no way she was going to let this drop without an explanation.

"Why did you speak to my mom?" Casey asked, enunciating each word crisply.

Think, think, think.

Olivia's mind raced, she needed a goddamn excuse, fast. "I was worried about you. You seemed stressed out." Olivia tried. Casey couldn't judge her for being concerned.

"Stressed?" Casey said, getting to her feet, her words dripping with incredulity, "My boyfriend has absconded to God knows where with absolutely no explanation , McCoy's going over all my work with a magnifying glass, and pouncing on every slight error I make and the latest case to drop onto my desk is that of the murder of my Staten Island counterpart, meaning I'm most likely not far from next on the list. So yes Detective, I'm stressed, but I missed the part where that was any of your fucking business." Casey snapped. By now, she had got up from her desk and was stood toe-to-toe with Olivia, her forest-green eyes smouldering. Olivia held her stare.

"Back off," Olivia warned. The younger woman's anger was not unwarranted, but Olivia did not like the way Casey was getting into her space. She couldn't help but size the lawyer up, deciding finally that she could probably take her down, were evasive action to become necessary. It seemed Novak had come to the same conclusion, as she relented, taking a step backward.

"Get out of my office," Casey said evenly. Olivia did not need to be asked twice.

ONE WEEK LATER

AN UNDERGROUND FACILITY SOMEWHERE IN WASHINGTON

Certain that he had drilled the escape route into Casey (he'd repeated it until he thought she was liable to punch him), Elliot led her toward Vanders' office, praying she'd swallow her pride and apologize, all the while panicking internally about his escape plan. It meant letting Casey and Olivia out of his sight again.

Elliot thought back to the time that he and Kathy had watched the film "Honey, I shrunk the kids!" with all their children. Kathy had enjoyed it, and so did the kids, but when he was laid in bed that night, watching his wife sleep, ears alert to the sounds of his children sleeping quietly in their respective rooms, he had secretly wished that the technology existed, that he could shrink his loved ones into miniatures, and carry them safe in his breast pocket at all times.

Then he'd know they were safe.

Then he'd never have to worry, like he was now, a sick sense of panic rising in his gut over the mere minutes it was necessary to have Casey out of his sight, out of his care.

He made his face an impassive mask as he swung the office door open, pushing Casey into the room ahead of him. Vander sat, rapt to the computer monitor on his desk, wiry fingers flying over the keyboard with astonishing speed, filling concrete walled room with rattling keystrokes. He flicked his eyes up to Elliot and quickly finished up on the computer, thumbing the monitor off and approaching, giving Casey a quick up and down.

"Ah, glad you're back. You may leave now Stabler." He said, tucking his hands into his suit pants pockets.

Casey felt the hand gripping her upper arm tense, but Elliot said nothing.

"I said you may _leave,__"_Vander said, reiterating the message in way that ensured it was not taken as a statement of possibilities (Elliot certainly _could _leave), but as a demand.

"That's not going to happen," Elliot said, voice hoarse. Vander looked quizzical, in the few seconds it took for Elliot's fist to meet his face.

Casey been involved in a few, relatively docile fights in her time, and she had witnessed several all out brawls between burly, furious and sometimes drunk men, but she had never seen anything like that. As Elliot's fist crashed into Vander's cheek, his face seemed to distort on the spot. His feet actually left the ground and he nearly became horizontal in the air as Elliot followed the swing through. He clattered to the ground with a dull thud. Casey was equally impressed and scared shitless.

"Change of plan," Elliot said, shaking his no doubt sore fist, looking down at the unsurprisingly unconscious pile of Nicholas Vander.


	19. ‘Woman’s’ best friend

**A/N Finally, the escape plan is in action! Sorry, I totally miscalculated how long Casey and Olivia would take to find Elliot (hence the two week break between the two time lines, that'll teach me to plan stories, not just write them off the top of my head), so it's taken a good long while to get there…**

**As for who would win in a Liv/Casey catfight…. Watch this space (or possibly, you may need to wait for the next story, which will follow straight on from this!)**

**Special thanks to Krystal, who suggested ChiChi get an actual appearance in the story too…**

**Anyhow, I'm rambling, here's the chapter, review if you are so inclined! xx**

_Chapter Nineteen: Woman's best friend_

_Who says violence never solves anything? _Elliot thought, looking at the crumpled form of the bastard who had got them all into this in the first place.

Casey looked between him and Vander, eyes wide.

"Is he dead?" Casey weakly. Elliot was already leaning down, placing a two fingers on the mans neck, relieved to find a faint, but steady pulse.

"He's good. But we've gotta move," Elliot said, opening the door a crack and peeking down the hall they had entered from. Empty. "I'll leave you at the exit then go back for Liv."

Elliot open the door, then, turning back to Casey, he held out a hand. With all the assaulting he'd been engaging in over the last few hours, the skin over his knuckles was splitting. She tried to ignore this as she slid her hand into his, and he lead her quickly down the hall.

The whole facility was all grey-green concrete walls and blue-grey steel doors, and Casey had no idea how Elliot had learnt to navigate the place so fast. A few halls down, and they were stood at an exit, covered by a massive, round metal door, the front of which was dominated by a locking system, with the number '101' decaled onto the surface in bold black typeface.

"Is this a fallout shelter or something?" Casey asked.

"It's under one of the M.I.T.P.'s guys house, left over from the 50's." Elliot explained. "Apparently getting a bombshelter back then was like getting a conservatory or something." He reached behind his back and pulled out a handgun, a 9mm Smith & Wesson semi-automatic. "Alright, I'm gonna run back and get Liv, you shoot _anyone_ that approaches, you got that?" He said, holding the gun out to her by its muzzle. Casey accepted the weapon reluctantly, checking the safety was on before tucking it into the waistband of her jeans.

"I will literally be two minutes," Elliot said. As he turned to leave, she felt a rising sense of dread, as though something awful was going to happen. Given their collective luck on this case so far, Murphy's Law proving itself with abandon, with everything that could possibly go wrong doing just that, she could be forgiven for worrying. She couldn't just let him walk away. She tapped his shoulder lightly, and he turned back, confusion knitting his caterpillar resembling eyebrows. Casey stepped closer, putting her arms around his neck and touching her forehead to his.

"Be careful," Casey said, immediately feeling silly. The statement was spectacularly redundant. Elliot managed a slight smile.

"I will." He said, brushing his nose against hers in an Eskimo greeting-like gesture, wrangling a smile out of her too. She bit her lip, wrestling with her thoughts as Elliot placed his hands on her waist, gently attempting to extricate himself from the embrace.

Fuck it.

"I love you," She blurted out, the three words tumbling into each other awkwardly. Elliot paused for a moment, his baby blue eyes staring into hers.

"I'm coming back," He said, without a touch of condescension. He placed his hands on either side of her face, placing a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. "Okay?"

Casey nodded and silently prayed he'd be right.

In the back of her mind, she also hoped someone had been feeding ChiChi since her capture.

ONE WEEK EARLIER

THE OFFICE OF ADA CASEY NOVAK, NEW YORK

"Novak, Sex Crimes," Casey barked down the phone in her usual, annoyed manner. She remembered being told by her sort of mentor Elizabeth Donnelly, that co-workers were the biggest drain on time in the workplace. As such, it was advisable to answer the phone in the most pissy way possible, which would generally result in the callers with non-urgent issues offering to call back later and never doing so. It had helped her, Casey found that when she answered the phone in a cheery, or even ambivalent manner, it led to people asking for favours and asking her to run frivolous errands.

If she answered the phone like it was the time of the month, her favourite pet had just been run over and coffee had been banned nationwide, people were eager to get off the phone before getting their heads snapped off.

That wasn't the case this afternoon. Casey was _genuinely _pissed after her run in with Olivia, who seemed intent on screwing with every aspect of her life for reasons unfathomable.

"Hey Case, think you could swing by my office, I've got a _huge_ favour to ask…" It was Christina Finn, her friend and fellow ADA.

"I'm swamped here Chris," Casey said, unconvincingly. Even though she actually did have a hell of a lot of research to do, she was dying to find an excuse to put off diving into the law tomes cluttering her desk.

"Please Casey, it won't take long, promise." Chris implored. Casey rolled her eyes.

"All right, I'm on my way." Casey said, re-cradling the handset.

THE OFFICE OF ADA CHRISTINA FINN

"Let me guess," Casey said, "Brian told you that you were the _only _one who could prosecute this case, perhaps talked up your empathy and trial skills, then dumped the case file on your desk, along with his telephone number, flashing you a cocky grin as he skipped out?" The excitable Chihuahua dashed over to Casey, raising onto its hind legs in a futile attempt to reach her height. Casey sighed, no one could resist that. She scooped the dog into her arms, cradling him like a small, pointy-eared baby. ChiChi panted appreciatively.

Chris' deep red blush told her that she had got the story down

"They were going to have him destroyed! Well. Her actually. The files were slightly wrong." Chris explained.

"Why?" Casey asked.

"Because apparently she hates men, goes nuts if a guy comes near her," Chris said, jumping as someone passed the glass door to her office, no doubt concerned that someone might spot the small, canine visitor.

"Aw, we might have to rename you Serena!" Casey said, tickling ChiChi's tiny chin. Chris stifled a giggle.

"Oh yeah, she'd _love_ that, anyway, about the favour, I'm in court in like, half an hour, so I was hoping…"

Casey cut her off, "I'm not babysitting ChiChi, McCoy will kick my ass if he sees her in my office."

"This coming from the ADA daring enough to subpoena Donald Rumsfeld?" Chris said, in a transparent attempt to butter her up.

"I'm never going to live that down," Casey said, shaking her head, "all right. But come back _right_ after court, I don't want ChiChi going ones or twos in my office."

Chris winced, "that was the other thing, my apartment building doesn't really allow pets, so I was sort of hoping you might be able to take her home for a few days, just until we can get her a real home."

Casey looked down at the animal in her arms, which was giving her quite literal puppy-dog eyes. There had to be worse things in the world than fostering a sexually abused hound for a few days. Besides, the place was a little empty without Elliot.

"Fine," Casey sighed, "but you owe me. Big."

"Great," Chris said, hopping up from her desk and taking ChiChi from Casey's arms and placing her into a large handbag. "This is so you can get her to your office without anyone noticing," She added. No sooner had Casey placed the bag on her shoulder, ChiChi popped her head out, glancing about.

"I feel like Paris Hilton." Casey complained, pushing the pups head back into the bag, and zipping it up, hoping it wasn't airtight, or else she'd be next up in court on charges of Caninicide.

A WEEK LATER

A BOMB SHELTER SOMEWHERE IN WASHINGTON DC

Elliot's heart was pounding in his head as he fumbled with the key ring, jamming a couple of wrongs ones in before finding the correct one, and burst into the holding room, finding Olivia looking startled, sat on the floor.

"Where's Casey?" She asked.

"Change of plan, come on," He said, gesturing toward the door. Olivia started to struggle to her feet, so Elliot walked over, offering his arms as support.

"You good?" He asked.

"Never better," Olivia half smiling, half wincing.

"Here, not that you ever want to look at another one of these again," Elliot said, handing her a pistol. He had swung by the armoury room on the way back to get Olivia. It meant a couple of minutes more, but he felt safer knowing he was carrying.

Olivia followed Elliot out of the room, limping heavily. It wasn't a case of taking the pain, though it did hurt like a motherfucker, her muscle simply would not function. Having a chuck of hot metal fired into it tended to do that. Elliot frowned at her lack of pace, slowing until they were side by side.

"This isn't going to work," He muttered. Before Olivia had a chance to ask him what he meant, she found herself being slung over his shoulder with such gusto she nearly went all the way over instead of landing in a fireman's lift position. He took off running at am impressive speed considering he had a grown woman on his broad shoulders. Despite her discomfort with the state of affairs, she was mortified that she was being carried classic 'damsel in distress' style, she was secretly glad to accept the lift. They were making a hell of a lot more ground, and her leg was no longer screaming with agony.

Casey waited near the door, checking her watch. Elliot had only been minutes, but it seemed like hours. Just then, footsteps sounded in the hall outside. Someone was coming. Casey hoped it was Olivia and Elliot, but she could only hear one distinct set of footfalls. She drew the gun Elliot had given her, flicked the safety off, chambered a bullet and ducked behind a desk hosting a large old PC, which was linked up to the thick steel door and, presumably, controlled it. The hall door clicked open, a shadow loomed large next to the desk, and Casey knew it was not Elliot's.


	20. I fought the law

**A/N Blah. Tired. Extremely. Enjoy. Review. :-) xx**

_Chapter Twenty: I fought the law…_

ONE WEEK PRIOR

THE APARTMENT OF ADA CASEY NOVAK

After dashing about Casey's apartment for an hour or so, ChiChi had finally tired her stumpy little legs out and curled up into a neat ball on Casey's lap, emitting a gentle, trilling dog snore. It was a little past eight in the evening, but Casey was still reviewing reference books. At her current rate of progress, it was likely she'd be at it until well after it officially became morning.

No matter, she'd learned from her college days that eight hours a night was a nice to have, not a necessity. She was just settling down for the long stretch when there was an aggressive knock at the door. ChiChi leapt up in abject surprise, scurrying under the coffee table, her tiny beige body trembling with violent shakes. Casey tossed the book onto the sofa and after fumbling with the keys for a moment, she jerked the door open.

"You?" Casey spat, seeing Olivia Benson stood in the hall.

"You shouldn't just open your door like that," Olivia said, hands stuffed into her jacket pockets and cheeks reddened from the cold outside.

"I realize that now," Casey said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe, doing her best to make her body language scream 'screw off' in case her tone didn't make it clear enough.

"The Captain sent me, he still wants you kept under surveillance, with what happened to ADA Bassett, he's still on edge."

"He couldn't send someone else?" Casey asked, unconcerned that she was being completely rude.

"I offered to come down here…"

"Unsurprising given your unhealthy interest in my personal life lately," Casey shot back, acidly.

"I was out of line Casey, and I'm sorry," Olivia said. She sounded genuine, but Casey had heard that one before. In her opinion, an apology didn't mean a damn thing when the person turned around and did exactly the same thing five minutes after.

"What exactly did you and my Mom talk about?" Casey asked evenly. Though she knew the question in itself implied she had a secret, she needed to find out what Olivia knew.

"Nothing important," Olivia shrugged,

"Don't try to bullshit me Olivia, I know it was about me, what the hell else could you two have to talk about?" Casey pressed. Olivia shrugged, sighing, glancing about, unable to meet Casey's eyes. She was hiding something, but she remained silent, "fine, if it's alright with you, I'll take my chances with the M.I.T.P." Casey said, sardonically, backing into her apartment and moving to close the door. Olivia stepped forward, blocking the frame. Casey sighed heavily and deliberately. She was pissed with Olivia, but even still as tempted as she was, Casey wasn't about to slam the prying detective in the door.

"Casey, I'm not leaving you on your own, it's not safe," Olivia said firmly. Casey shrugged, stepping aside and allowing Olivia to enter.

"Suit yourself, I was just heading out anyway," Casey said, grabbing her car keys from the nearby cabinet before realizing she was wearing her pyjamas. Her sheep print Pyjamas. Sometimes she wished they weren't so fucking cosy.

"Pyjama party?" Olivia asked, trying not to smirk.

"If you must know, I need to go pick up some pet food," Casey said, nodding at the coffee table under which ChiChi was still sequestered. Olivia tilted her head, finally spotting the miniscule mutt,

"Hey there little buddy!" She said in a voice Casey had often heard her use on the many traumatized children who passed through the 1-6. ChiChi immediately dashed out, scampering up to Olivia, her tiny tail beating ferociously against her sides with excitement at the new, friendly visitor. Olivia crouched down, and ChiChi leapt into her waiting arms, lapping at her excitedly.

_Little canine whore, _Casey thought in a flash of unexplainable anger. She felt a little embarrassed at being put out of joint by her new house pet taking a shine to Olivia.

"Glad you two are getting along," Casey said, unintentionally allowing her illogical flare of jealously to show in her voice.

"If you're going to the store, I'll have to come along," Olivia said. Chichi (disloyal bitch that she was) was upturned in Olivia's arms, tongue lolling out to one side as she enjoyed a tummy rub.

"Detective, I don't need a bodyguard," Casey said.

"Sorry, this is non-negotiable." Olivia said in a sympathetic way which only served to make Casey feel patronized.

"No, _this_ is non-negotiable," Casey said, livid, "get the hell out of my apartment, and tell Cragen if he wants to have me babysat by Officers twenty-four/seven, he is just going to have to have me arrested."

Olivia seemed unaffected by Casey's outburst. She placed ChiChi down on the couch, and walked unnervingly close.

"Make me," She said curtly, attempting to stare Casey down. The Detective had clearly underestimated her current level of exasperation and annoyance. In her office, she had backed down, but this was her own apartment, she wasn't about to be intimidated into letting Olivia stay, for whatever twisted reason was presently motivating the older woman. Besides, for better or for worse, Casey had never been easily intimated, even by people who could unequivocally and conclusively kick her ass. She wasn't about to be cowed by a Police Detective, one who Casey was semi confident she could take down, if the need arose.

"Olivia: leave. I won't ask you again," Casey said, pinning the older woman with her harshest glare. The Detective didn't flinch at her aggressive tone.

"I can't," Olivia said, still perfectly calm, innocent. Casey swore she could feel her temperature rising. Why was Olivia Benson hell-bent on pissing her off? Casey decided she didn't care. All she cared about was that Olivia was accomplishing her mission. Casey channelled all her rage into her arms, obliging Olivia's 'make me' request by grabbing her by the lapels of her jacket, steering her toward the door. She had nearly succeeded in ousting Benson, when, in a swift motion, Olivia swatted Casey's hands off and spun her to face the wall. Olivia then pushed her against the wall, chest first, hard enough to knock the air out of her lungs. Casey felt cold metal around her wrists along with a familiar clicking sound of cuffs shutting.

"Have it your way," Olivia said, then her voice turned automatic, "Casey Novak, you're under arrest for assaulting a police officer, you have the right to remain…"

"You have got to be kidding me," Casey said, squirming in Olivia's vice-like hold.

"…silent. Anything you say can and will…"

"Olivia, stop mirandizing me, this is not funny!" Casey snapped, even as Olivia was guiding her out of the apartment by her restrained arms.

"…be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present…"

"I _am_ a fucking attorney, and you're making a false arrest Olivia, you're taking this too far!"

"Don't worry, I'm sure I'll decide not to press charges for the assault, and you'll be out early enough for work tomorrow morning," Olivia said, locking Casey's apartment door with her free hand while she kept Casey in place with the other. Now she could see the Detectives plan. If she arrested Casey, she could (fucking legitimately) throw her in a cell overnight thereby keeping her out of harms way without her consent.

That was why she had riled Casey up in the first place. She'd probably given Olivia the damned idea when she had, quite jokingly, suggested Cragen have her arrested.

Still indignant, Casey struggled a little, though she knew it was futile, she wanted to at least make a respectable bid for escape. Olivia was silent on the elevator ride down to street level, and Casey was silently glad that there was no doorman, or any other people in the lobby to witness the incident.

THE OFFICE OF CAPTAIN DONALD CRAGEN

Don Cragen sat at his desk, still working his way through the Detectives reports. It had been a busy fortnight, and he had fallen a little behind. No matter. The squadroom had a still, silent tranquillity at this hour (provided he had managed to evict the detectives at a reasonable time), and he felt himself relax, hearing the voices of his team as he read their accounts of the last two weeks action.

Just then, he heard the actual voice of one of his squad. He looked up from his desk just as Olivia Benson entered, looking slightly flustered.

"I thought you were over at Novak's?" He questioned. He had sent Olivia over to keep tabs on the ADA. He didn't trust that the young lawyer wouldn't set herself in harms way just to, in effect, flip off the M.I.T.P. who had most likely slain her Staten Island counterpart, she had a leaning toward impetuousness that unsettled the seasoned officer.

Benson looked at him sheepishly, unconsciously putting a hand up and touching the back of her neck awkwardly. Cragen had known Olivia long enough to know that meant she'd done something stupid.

"She didn't want to be babysat," Olivia said.

"And you left it at that?" Cragen questioned.

"I…uh. Arrested her," Olivia said hesitantly.

"You did what?" He asked, incredulous. He hoped to hell she was joking.

The Junior Detective gave a nervous shrug, "Novak got mad when I said I wouldn't leave, she grabbed me, tried to kick me out, so I collared her for assault on a police officer."

"What in the hell made you think that was good idea?" Cragen asked. He was a perceptive man. He'd noticed that even after several years with the squad, Benson and Novak still had an unaccountable frostiness between them. However, he'd always figured it to be a conflict of personalities, not a genuine feud.

"She wasn't co-operating so I figured, bring her in, that way she's safe for tonight, cut her loose in the morning. I wasn't planning to process her or press charges," Olivia explained.

"I don't suppose Novak's likely to push false arrest charges?" Cragen asked, hoping Olivia had all the bases covered. It was a novel way to keep the attorney safe, though also both morally and legally dubious.

Olivia shook her head, "I had legitimate cause to arrest her for assault. She'll be righteously pissed, but it won't become a problem."

"See that it doesn't," Cragen said, "and make sure she's out in time to make it to the DA's office for her shift. I don't want McCoy bending my ear for incarcerating one of his ADA's."

"Yes sir," Olivia said, leaving the Captain to his files.

ONE WEEK LATER

AN UNDERGROUND FACILITY SOMEWHERE IN WASHINGTON

Elliot had told Casey to shoot to kill anyone who entered the room whilst he was away retrieving his partner.

In theory, it sounded like a plan. In practice, Casey was hidden behind a desk, gun in hand pointed impotently at the floor, panicking. She had lain awake many a night, mostly after she'd won a case, thinking about the motivations of the man (or occasionally woman) she'd put away. Wondering if she, in the right situation, was capable of killing. Of ending another persons life.

Curiously she had always prayed that she would not be able, that she simply did not have it in her to end a life. That was reserved for the especially evil, and the precious few (such as Elliot and Olivia) who had to sacrifice their own innocence to bloodshed to thwart the former.

So here she was, morally superior but realistically screwed.

Sometimes, getting your prayers answered was a bitch.

Casey kept her breathing low as Doug began to type at the very desk she was hiding behind.

_Shit._

Out of options, instinctively, Casey quickly made the Sign of the Cross, though in some ways she doubted the wisdom of invoking the power of God at this juncture. She doubted she was in his good books. Hell, putting away child rapists probably scored her a few points, but she wasn't sure if that quite outweighed sleeping with a married man, and the fact that the only time she had laid her hand on a bible in the last five or so years was when she was being sworn in during court proceedings.

As Doug continued his operation on the PC above, Casey realised that she could (if she was quiet enough), shuffle around the desk, and make it out the door without ever crossing the mans sightline. It was worth a chance.

Casey slid the gun into the back of her jeans in slow motion, careful not to jar anything in the vicinity. She then slowly crawled around the desk, keeping her eye on Doug the whole time. Thankfully, he was engrossed with his task, and didn't notice Casey slip out the open door, back into the hallway. She paused for a moment, but was fully aware that she could not just leave Doug there. Elliot and Olivia would be back any moment, and they needed to make a quick escape.

Luckily, he didn't notice her sneaking back into the room, looming behind him, fire extinguisher in hand. Casey shut her eyes and smacked the man over the head with the active fire protection device. It made a stomach turning sound as it connected, and Doug stiffened, then fell sideways onto the floor.

Casey checked his pulse.

It was there.

She breathed a sigh of relief, placing the makeshift weapon down on the table.

"And I thought you people were all about _putting an end _to violence!" A jovial voice came from behind her, accompanied by solid, metallic clicking sound. A gun. Casey slowly raised her hands level with her head.

It seemed Nick Vander hadn't been quite as incapacitated as she and Elliot had thought.


	21. Caught

**A/N Sorry, this has taken ages! I wrote the chapter, but then wound up completely re-doing it, but finally it's here. Anyhoo, I feel the need to point out that the whole Casey/Olivia fight will occur later, and will be epic… that last bit in the last chapter was more of an 'almost' fight really. Anyhow, on to the story… drop me a review if you're so inclined**

_Chapter Twenty-One: Caught_

ONE WEEK EARLIER

THE SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT HOLDING CELLS, NEW YORK

If looks could kill, Olivia did not doubt that she'd be writhing on the floor in the last throes of a pulmonary embolism as she entered the sight line of Casey Novak, glaring at her between the bars of the holding cell, lips taut in a grumpy pout . She was sat on the bed, knees drawn up under her chin, arms securing them there.

"Do you want me to grab you a jumpsuit?" Olivia asked in a deliberately cheery, sing-song manner. Casey was still wearing her sheep print pyjamas, and she imagined this was only adding to the lawyers fury. Casey was silent, brooding. She didn't even acknowledge that Olivia was speaking. "You're right, it'll probably clash with your hair."

"Let me out, or leave me alone." Casey said abruptly.

"Casey, we're just trying to keep you safe," Olivia said softly. She leant against the bars nearest Casey, trying to get a read off the younger woman. Casey got to her feet, storming up to the bars.

"Stop pluralizing this Detective, _you _brought me in, now I don't know if this part of some misguided new years resolution, or if you're just pissed off that I'm seeing Elliot, and frankly, I don't give a damn. This has to stop."

"This has _nothing_ to do with Elliot," Olivia said, voice peaking involuntarily. Even if she was off base with her assessment of Olivia's motivations, Casey had struck a nerve. The ADA wasn't blind to the shift in Olivia's behaviour, her expression became focused, and she tilted her head slightly to the left, her stare gaining a sudden intensity.

"Then explain it to me," Casey said levelly, placing her hands onto the vertical bars before her.

Olivia remained noncommittal, "is it that hard to believe that I just want to keep you out of danger?"

"Yes." Casey replied flatly. It had always struck Olivia as strange that Casey was one of the most honest (to a level that verged on bluntness) people she had ever met, considering her chosen profession. Olivia tended to play her cards closer to her chest.

"I'll be back in the morning," Olivia quietly, stepping back from the holding cell.

"Screw this," Casey muttered angrily, turning her back on the Detective. She didn't blame Casey for being suspicious of her motives. Hell, a month ago, she would have left the stubborn lawyer to fend for herself.

But of course, the chance DNA match-up had changed everything.

Family was a word Olivia could apply to a very limited number of people. Discovering her relation to Casey had doubled that number to two, so understandably, something had stirred inside her, a protective drive.

But that same protective spirit also meant that Olivia had settled on a decision about disclosing the secret to Casey.

She couldn't.

Especially not after she had heard the full story.

AROUND A MONTH AGO

THE RESIDENCE OF HANNAH AND JOSHUA NOVAK

"You have to tell her the truth," Olivia said finally, "it'll be hard for her, but what's most important is that you love her, no matter where she came from."

Casey's mother sighed, clearly having hoped that the story would dissuade Olivia coming to precisely that conclusion.

"The truth can be an ugly thing Detective," Hannah said, sadly, "you think I should tell Casey the truth? How about I tell her the whole truth, that when I found out I was pregnant I actually booked an appointment to get an abortion?"

Olivia's eye widened "oh my god."

Hannah rolled her eyes, "I know, it goes against everything I've ever believed in, but at the time, I was just so… disgusted, and afraid of what was inside of me. I knew it wasn't Josh's. I just wanted to forget about it, I didn't want a constant reminder of what he did to me."

"So why didn't you go through with it?" Olivia asked, trying hard not to choke up. She had often asked herself why her mother hadn't taking that route with her, especially with the level of distain her mother had for her. Sometimes Olivia felt that her mother had only gone through with the pregnancy so that she would have something to take her anger out on.

Hannah shrugged, "when I got back from booking in at the clinic, Josh was acting strange. Giddy almost. He'd been so miserable lately, I thought it was odd. I asked him why he was so happy, and that's when he told me: he'd seen the box for the pregnancy test in the trash. He looked so…hopeful. I couldn't lie to him. I told him I was pregnant. He of course, assumed it was his and was ecstatic. There was no recourse, so, I cancelled my appointment and months later we had Casey and I never looked back."

Olivia didn't know what to say.

AROUND A MONTH LATER

THE SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT BULLPEN, NEW YORK

The squad-room lights were off, but still, before entering, Elliot used his cell to call Captain Cragen's desk phone. There was no way of telling if he was in there, lurking in the dark.

The line rang out, and, satisfied that the department was indeed empty, he snuck inside and made his way to his desk, sinking into his familiar seat which normally found him opposite Liv. He felt a twinge of guilt as he observed the stack of files and copious yellow post-it notes scattered about her desk. He had no doubts that his suspension had resulted in her workload being effectively doubled, and of course, being Olivia she was likely losing sleep over his whereabouts. He'd checked in on his apartment phone voicemail before driving over to the station, and there was a series of messages, going from concerned, to angry and then to desperate in chronological order. But he couldn't let the opportunity pass him by.

A few days ago (just after his suspension) Elliot had received a phone call from one Nicolas Vander, requesting a meeting. Off the books.

Turns out, he had been impressed when he'd heard about Elliot from a seething Hamilton. Naturally, when he'd met with the bastard he'd played up to his assumptions, feigning a barely veiled distain for women and luckily, Vander had been taken in. M.I.T.P. had a worryingly large group of followers who supported their ideals, but it seemed precious few were privy to their sideline in ritual rape and murder. Elliot had made sure that Vander knew he'd be willing to take on a more _active_ role whenever the need arose. Now it was just a question of waiting until Vander trusted him enough to disclose something criminal, then he'd nail the son of a bitch. Then things could go back to normal.

He powered on his computer. There were a few searches he needed to run, on his new 'friends'. Check for priors. He wanted to determine which were the hardcore members, and which ones were just sexist dumb-asses along for the ride.

An hour or so later, research done, Elliot powered his computer off, making sure he left his desk apparently untouched, his Partner was observant, and made his way toward the exit. It didn't matter if any of the uniforms guarding the holding cells saw him. Most of them were completely oblivious to the goings on within the department, they'd never know he was suspended.

As he strode through, he noticed one of the detainees, curled up on the notoriously uncomfortable cell cot, enveloped in a grey blanket. She was facing away from him, but her hair was a striking shade of blonde with a little red mixed in. He smiled to himself. Maybe she and Casey went to the same stylist. He was about to continue toward the exit when the prisoner rolled over, emitting a distinctive sigh.

"Casey?" He said. She looked up at him, her sharp features unmistakable even in the dull light. Her expression morphed from an intense scowl to utter surprise.

"Elliot?" She said, rising to her feet. She crossed the small distance where he stood, only separated from him by the holding cell bars. She wore her favourite sheep print flannel pyjamas, and a pair of slippers. He wasn't sure what confused him more, her presence here, or her choice of outfit.

"What are you doing in here?" Elliot asked.

"Liv arrested me. I didn't want a guard at my house 24/7 so she took it upon herself to haul my ass in on a bullshit assault charge," Casey muttered, "where the hell have you been?"

"Oh, so now we're telling each other where we're going?" Elliot asked. Casey crossed her arms and her eyes narrowed. Casey was cute as hell when pissed off, which was lucky for her, since she certainly wasn't a tough person to piss off.

"I've been worried about you," she hissed back, in a tone that suggested it was fortunate she was barred access to him by the wall of metal, "my best guess is you're trying to nail Hamilton to make up for the fact that you assaulting him tanked my case, am I right?"

"Casey, I'm not having an argument with you," Elliot said firmly. He wanted to work things out with Casey, he definitely did. This, however, was not the time, and it sure as hell was not the place.

Casey sighed heavily, shoulders slumping, "fine, can you at least let me out?"

Elliot shook his head ever so slightly, "I'm sorry." Reluctantly, he turned and started to walk away.

"Wait, where are you going?" Casey asked, voice lifting with nerves.

"I'll be back soon, there's something I need to do," Elliot said. He knew he was being infuriatingly ambiguous, but he couldn't risk telling Casey he was working undercover against M.I.T.P. She'd either tell Cragen and get him pulled out, or worse, get herself embroiled in the whole debacle. He definitely couldn't allow that. He reached a hand between the bars, taking one of Casey's in his. She gripped his fingers, pinning him with an imploring look.

"Elliot, whatever you're doing, I know it's dangerous," she said, voice softening, "or stupid, otherwise you'd tell me. So I'm going to ask you to drop it, and come back to my apartment with me. We'll get Hamilton and those assholes eventually."

Elliot released her hand, "sorry, I can't do that." He said, and began his walk down the hall, swiftly focusing on the door ahead to keep the sound of Casey's voice calling after him out of his mind.

ONE WEEK LATER

AN UNDERGROUND FACILITY SOMEWHERE IN WASHINGTON

"Come on, come on!" Elliot muttered impatiently, foot tapping. On the way back to the exit, he and Olivia had been forced to duck into a room, the pantry by the looks of it, to avoid a couple of Vander's lackey's. Unfortunately, they were presently stopped just outside of said pantry, shooting the breeze, casual as could be whilst Elliot seriously considered whether it would be wrong to shoot them both just to speed things up. Olivia was at his side, pistol held in both hands aimed at the floor, and she too was fidgeting edgily.

"You should have brought Casey with you," Olivia whispered.

"I left her in a safe place," Elliot replied, with a touch of annoyance.

"Those guys have been out there for like ten minutes, if they don't leave soon we're going to have to think of something," Olivia said, eyes darting about the room. Elliot wondered if she thought a tranquilliser gun or invisibility suit would miraculously appear if she only looked hard enough.

Vander circled Casey slowly, self satisfied haughtiness painted all over his features.

They were back in his office, Nick Vander had led her there at gunpoint. Doug had followed, and was presently sat at Vander's desk, he looked woozy, head probably still spinning from the brisk contact with the extinguisher. Casey just stood still, hands cuffed behind her back, hoping Elliot had not been similarly incapacitated.

"You know, there's a lot I could teach you," Vander said, halting from his shark like orbit in front of her, "you would be so much more satisfied in life if you gave in to your female desire to submit to male authority, instead of fighting to usurp us."

"How about if I gave in to my decidedly non-ladylike desire to kick your ass?" Casey asked, "I think _that_ might make me a little more satisfied." Vander rolled his eyes and resumed his circling, stopping directly behind her and laying a swift slap on her ass. She cursed herself for hissing at the sting.

"You know, Doug is a little put out that you clobbered him, would you like me to leave you alone with him?" Vander asked mirthfully. Doug turned around, still rubbing his sore head, narrowing his eyes angrily at Casey.

"No," Casey said. She was dying to spit out another sarcastic rebuttal, but her still aching body protested the idea of going a few rounds with Doug. He wasn't as mountainous as Hamilton, but he could still kick the shit out of her, even is she wasn't restrained.

"I think he'd like an apology," Vander smirked. Doug rose to his feet, coming to stand before her, tottering slightly from the likely concussion she'd provided him with earlier.

When the men finally moved, Elliot hoisted Olivia back onto his shoulder (despite vehement protests), and dashed the short distance to the exit. They were mere metres from escape and Elliot could feel a weight lifting off his chest.

He'd got them all into this mess, but he was about to get them out of it.

The calm that was easing in on him immediately reversed to become panic when he realized the room was empty.

"I left her right here!" Elliot said, pacing about the room, craning his neck to peer behind the metal shelving the room housed.

"What do we do now?" Olivia asked. Elliot had just been considering that himself. He punched a few keys on the computer. The door let out a high, metallic whine and began to lurch open.

"Liv, get out of here," He said, reaching into his pocket, "you'll wind up in the kitchen, the house should be empty. Get outside, my car's in the drive. Get in and wait. If I'm not back in fifteen minutes, get the hell out of here."

"You know I'm not gonna do that," Olivia said, matter-of-factly, leaning one hand on the desk between them to take the weight off her injured leg. Elliot sighed. Why were all the women in his life so goddamn stubborn?

"Liv, at least go wait in the car, I'm not leaving you in here, and I'll find Casey faster without you," Elliot said, exasperated. Olivia looked between the exit and Elliot a few times before saying,

"Alright, go get her," and starting to hobble off through the metal vault door.


	22. Boiling Point

**A/N: Sorry, this chapter has been a long time coming! Still working on the follow up to "Like Father" which is hopefully not going to fail epically, so bear with me. Revvvvvview if you have a mo…. Much loves to those who have been reading so far xx (oh dear, random kisses… I'm such a whore!)**

**Off to sleep now….**

_Chapter Twenty-Two: Boiling Point_

SIX DAYS EARLIER

THE POLICE DEPARTMENT HOLDING CELLS, NEW YORK

Casey awoke to the loud, metallic clanging sound of a uniformed officer banging the bars with his truncheon.

"Casey Novak! Up and at 'em," He barked, annoyingly chipper for what had to be an early hour. He wasn't an Officer she recognized, so it was likely he did not even know she was the departments ADA, "Detective Benson wants to see you in the squad room, pronto."

"Ugh," Casey muttered, kicking the thin grey blanket to the end of the bed and combing her fingers through her strawberry blonde locks, attempting to look at least slightly presentable. As presentable as she could in novelty, livestock themed pyjamas.

"Come on blondie, this isn't a beauty pageant," He said, jerking the cell door open. Casey crossed her arms and padded out, making sure to take note of the name on the mans badge: Peters. She liked to keep track of the people who had pissed her off. Just in case any future payback opportunities happened to arise.

Casey didn't think of it as revenge, she thought of it as justice. Something she was accustomed to doling out in large servings.

"Come on," Peters muttered, sliding up the long flannel sleeves of her pyjama top before snapping cuffs onto her wrists and leading her to the squad room.

THE SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT SQUADROOM

"That'll be all Officer," Olivia nodded, dismissing Peters with a nod. Olivia had slept in the crib, if she could pass off fitfully rolling about with her eyes open, glancing at her watch, cursing the far too quick advance of morning as sleep.

"Are you going to let me go home now?" Casey asked. Her voice sounded heavy, defeated. She didn't even appear concerned that she was stood in the middle of the (albeit empty) squad room in her pyjamas, when Detectives were liable to pour in at any moment.

Olivia moved behind Casey, unlocking the cuffs hesitantly. At this juncture, Olivia would not have been surprised had Novak whirled around and planted a fist in her face. Thankfully, she just rubbed at her wrists irritably and continued to glower.

"Here," Olivia said, handing Casey a pair of jeans and t-shirt, neatly folded along with a fresh set of underwear and a pair of sneakers. Before Olivia had settled down for the night, she had swung by Casey's apartment, to let her curious new miniature house pet out for a walk, and figured it might be possible to, at least partially, assuage the ADA's anger by providing her with a less embarrassing outfit to travel home in.

Casey accepted the items with no thank you or notable change to her deportment and ducked into one of the interrogation rooms to change. Olivia rolled her eyes and rapped on the door.

"Casey, one way mirror, remember?"

"Don't give a shit," The lawyer called out, evidencing just that by peeling off her pyjama shirt. Olivia turned her back, leaning against the cool glass, hoping for Casey's sake, none of the predominately male squad appeared.

In what seemed like seconds, Casey strolled out, dressed.

"Alright, do you want me to take you home to get ready for work?" Olivia asked, consulting her wristwatch. It read 7:49.

"I don't suppose I have a choice," Casey said, following her resigned statement up with a deliberate, despondent sigh. Olivia ground her teeth, frustrated. She'd had been painfully genial to the lawyer, and had gone to great lengths to ensure her safety, and Casey was repaying her by behaving like a petulant 5 year old. Olivia was tiring of the 'hard done by' act.

"No, you don't," Olivia replied simply, taking hold of Casey's upper arm and marching her toward the door, "if you're not smart enough to look out for your own welfare, then someone else has to." She added. Casey bristled at the comment, jerking her arm out of Olivia's grip and putting a few feet between them.

Casey glanced backward over her shoulder, "You're getting off on this, aren't you?" she muttered with utter distain.

That was enough.

Olivia halted Novak's exit from the squad-room by grabbing her collar and tugging abruptly enough that Casey let out a slight choking sound as her t-shirt pulled taut against her throat and nearly stumbled over backward.

"Casey, I've been working my ass off to protect you, now I didn't expect a thank you, it's _you_ after all, but the least you can do is act like an adult. I've stayed here all night, except when I went back to your apartment to walk _your_ Toy Dog…"

Casey cut in, "…well Olivia, maybe ChiChi isn't the only bitch that needs to get out more."

"What did you just call me?" Olivia growled, taking two fistfuls of the lawyers t-shirt, pulling Casey so close their foreheads touched. She could feel a fury building up in the back of her throat. She wasn't sure if it was the lack of sleep, the lack of caffeine, the constant antagonism, or a combination of all three.

SIX DAYS LATER

AN UNDERGROUND FACILITY SOMEWHERE IN WASHINGTON

It wasn't a large place, so at least that worked to Elliot's advantage. After waiting and watching to ensure Olivia made it out to safety, he quickly made his way back out into the halls, gun drawn, not giving a solitary shit if someone saw him.

Perhaps Casey had snuck off to hide, that was a possibility. An infinitely more palatable one than the more likely scenario, which was that someone had captured her. Dammit, he should never have left her alone. He should have taken her when he left to collect Olivia. One over each shoulder, that could have worked.

As Elliot approached Vander's office, he could hear speech, a low rumbling voice that had an unmistakable supercilious cadence. Bastard was tougher than he looked.

Not wasting any time, Elliot slammed a foot against the door, blasting it open and peering inside down the sightline of his pistol.

*****

There were several things Casey was beginning to tire of which had been happening to her far too often over the last fortnight.

A. Being handcuffed or tied up

B. Being held against her will

C. Having a gun put to her head.

Item 'C' on the list was causing her the most consternation, especially as it was presently occurring yet again.

Elliot had flown into the room, gun held out at arms length, shoulder height with his blue eyes bloodshot and flicking about wildly. Instantly, Doug, who had been about to extract an heartfelt apology from her in a way she would have likely found at least mildly unpleasant, had pulled his sidearm out and tugged her to his chest as a human shield, pressing the muzzle of the gun to her temple. Vander's glib half-smirk hadn't slipped. He stood by his desk, looking less surprised than entertained by the latest turn of events.

"Drop your weapon!" Elliot yelled. Casey had to fight to not roll her eyes. Why did cops always try that one? Had it ever actually worked for them?

"You drop yours!" Doug replied at equal volume.

"Stabler, we both know how this is going to end," Vander said dryly, "you wouldn't risk hurting your girlfriend, would you? Lets not waste any more time shall we? Put the gun down."

Casey watched as Elliot narrowed his eyes, focusing on Doug, no doubt sighting up a shot. Weighing up whether he could make it. Casey held her breath, praying he'd take the chance. It's not like she'd have to try to forgive him if he missed, with Doug's face so close to hers she could feel his every exhale, Casey was right inside his margin for error. If he didn't take Doug's head off with the bullet, he'd likely cap her instead.

"Alright," Elliot said, changing his aim to the ceiling then crouching gradually, placing the gun on the floor.

"Kick it away," Doug said, still antsy. Elliot scooted the gun across the poured concrete floor, and it skittered off under a filing cabinet.

*****

Olivia sat in the car, parked outside on the drive where Elliot had said it would be. It was a sporty black BMW, with heavenly leather seats. Once they were out of this goddamn mess, Olivia was sorely tempted to surreptitiously drive this puppy back to hers and keep it as a replacement for her now defunct Volvo.

Only minutes had passed since Elliot had ventured back inside to track down the missing ADA, but already, Olivia was starting to get nervous. Nothing about this half-assed mission had gone right. Nothing. There was no reason to suppose his rescue attempt would go fare any better.

Just as she was contemplating how exactly she was going to operate the gas pedal with her aching, perforated leg when she saw an ominous white van pull out from behind the house. Olivia knew it would be better to stay put and wait for them to show up, but her gut instinct was telling her to follow the van.

When she caught sight of Nicholas Vander in the passenger seat of said van as it sped out of the unfamiliar cul-de-sac, she needed no further persuasion to fire up the engine and reverse out of the driveway so fast she nearly took out a passing, now cursing, paperboy.

*****

_Damn back door, _Elliot thought, muttering varied expletives as he slid about on the metal floor of the van he and Casey had been bundled into the back of, though not before both had had their wrists and ankles secured together with generous amounts of duct tape.

"Where do you think they're taking us?" Casey asked, shouting to be heard over the roar of the engine.

"Can't be good," Elliot remarked, bracing his legs against one side of the van, halting the tumbling. Casey followed his example, and sat herself next to him, feet pressed against one wall, back against the opposite, "but I'm sure we'll find out soon enough. By the way, there's something that's been bugging me since you first got here."

"What's that?" Casey asked.

"How'd you break your fingers?" He asked. When he had first been forced to capture Casey and Olivia, he'd noticed with some confusion that three of the fingers on Casey's left hand were bandaged together, along with a small splint for support.

"You don't want to know," Casey sighed heavily, only serving to make him extra curious.

SIX DAYS PRIOR

THE SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT SQUAD ROOM, NEW YORK

"You heard what I said," Casey snapped, not fazed by Olivia's hands on her shirt, or the fury boiling behind her dark brown eyes which had near turned black with anger, "I'm only going to say this once Detective: Let go of me."

"Is that a threat I hear Counsellor?" Olivia asked, grip tensing, "I'm shaking, really." She added.

"Get the fuck out of my face," Casey warned.

"Aw, I thought you said you were only going to say it once?" Olivia said, in a viciously condescending tone.

Casey had enough. She took Olivia's wrists, pulling them from her shirt, then, placing her hands on Olivia's shoulders, she gave an almighty shove, sending the Detective crashing into the desk behind her, owned by one Odafin Tutuola. Paperwork and pens careened across the floor, and Olivia looked livid. Recovering quickly, she sprung forward, taking hold of Casey's collar once more and slammed her back against the wall. All the air in her lungs expelled itself in a violent cough, but the ADA wasn't about to be defeated that easily.

*****

She was stronger than she looked, Olivia had to give that to the younger woman. Casey pushed her away again, and this time, without warning, threw a surprisingly good left hook, catching Olivia unawares and right in the nose.

She didn't have to bring a hand up to check to know that her nose was bleeding. She could feel the warm liquid trickling down over her top lip.

Now she was mad.

Novak was looking both surprised (perhaps that her blow had landed) and pained, holding her left hand awkwardly. Perhaps it hadn't been as good a punch as it had looked/felt. Unsurprisingly, Olivia had little sympathy. She, after all, was still seeing stars and had a face that felt like she'd thought it prudent to ride the train with her head stuck out the window to admire the view and had been struck by a signpost placed that little bit too close.

Little sister or not, Casey had earned herself an ass-kicking. Before the ADA had a chance to recuperate, Olivia rushed her, thumping a fist into her stomach. Predictably, Casey doubled over, and Olivia took the opportunity to throw her back onto Munch's desk, holding her still by her neck, delivering a couple more blows to her solar plexus. It would hurt like hell, but was unlikely to do the lawyer any lasting or visible damage, unlike the violent blow Casey had delivered to her face earlier. Casey somehow managed to get an arm free, catching Olivia in the cheek with a thankfully much lighter punch, but before she could retaliate, Olivia felt hands grab her from behind, pulling her backward. She tried to fend off her assailant until she heard him shout,

"Liv, it's me, calm the hell down!"

It was Fin.

Casey looked intensely pissed off, but before she could make a move to come at her, she was quickly and effectively restrained by John Munch, who must have come in with Tutuola.

"She started it," Casey muttered, still sounding strained, glaring at Olivia.

"Yeah right, Mike Tyson over there decided to slug me during an argument," Olivia countered, trying subtly to wrangle herself out of her fellow Detectives grasp.

"You slammed me into a wall,"

"Because you pushed me,"

"You were grabbing my shirt,"

"Enough!" Came a booming voice which cast a silence over the squad room. Captain Cragen stood in the entrance of the chaos that had become his Department, taking in the scene before him. Papers strewn across the floor, the ADA and one of his Detectives yelling at each other, one with a bloodied nose, being restrained by a couple more detectives. "My office, both of you, now!" He barked, storming ahead into said location. Both she and Casey looked sheepish, their anger draining. Fin let go of her cautiously, looking relieved when she simply skulked into the Captain's office. He was perhaps afraid she was going to launch onto the resident prosecutor again. He needn't have been concerned. Cragen's authoritative roar was enough to put the fear of god into anyone.

THE OFFICE OF CAPTAIN DONALD CRAGEN

"What the hell has gotten into you two?" Cragen asked, once the two women were settled in the chairs on the other side of his desk. Benson currently had tissues pressed against her nose to stem the blood, and Novak was nursing a quickly swelling left hand. Both remained silent. "That was not a rhetorical question," he added.


	23. Sibling Rivalry

**A/N Sorry it's a short one! Been mega busy! I'm so glad you guys liked the Casey/Olivia fight. I'm fully aware it was entirely gratuitous, and would probably never happen (well… maybe, but they do seem close to having a full-on fight in the show sometimes!), but dammit, it was fun to write! Ahem. Anyway I'll add more tomorrow, I was just too tired to proof the rest of what I wrote. Oh, and I feel I should apologise for the lack of C/E in this story! I kinda didn't think about the fact that it was gonna be a little hard writing any of that in when Elliot goes missing about two chapters into the story! It's ended up being about 80% Olivia and Casey arguments! Anyway, I will stop slating my own writing now. Thanks for reading my epically drawn out story, it does fill me with many happys.**

**X**

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Sibling Rivalry**

Casey glanced across to Olivia, whose posture mirrored hers, slumped low in the chair, mute, avoiding the sour rays of judgement emanating from the dark eyes of Donald Cragen. They both knew how this worked. If both stayed silent, the Captain would never know who started it, therefore, neither would get in trouble.

They had been at each others throats minutes before, now they were unlikely allies. At least for now.

At least that's what Casey thought.

"Casey punched me, so I tried to restrain her." Olivia blurted out, cracking under the shrivelling gaze of her superior. Casey's mouth hung open.

"Oh, 'she started it', very grown up Detective." Casey shot back.

"You said those _exact_ words all of ten seconds ago out in the squad room!" Olivia yelled back.

"And having an all out brawl in the middle of the squad-room is the height of maturity?" Cragen barked.

"It won't happen again," Olivia mumbled, shoulders tense, affecting her best puppy dog eyes, not doubt hoping to dissuade the Captain from taking the matter further.

"You're damn right it won't," Cragen said, rising to his feet, "both of you, up, now," he added, crossing the room and holding his glass panel office door open. Olivia exited first, followed by Casey. She walked with her head ducked, arms crossed as she tried to avoid meeting the eyes of any of the other detectives as they passed through the squad-room, trailing Cragen. She didn't want to explain to Fin that the reason the contents of his desk were now liberally decorating the floor was that she'd been compelled to launch a Female Detective onto it with little or no thought for the integrity of his filing system.

Halting, the Captain jerked open the door to one of the interview rooms.

"In," He snapped, adding surprising authority to a single syllable. When neither woman made a move to step inside, he added, "I am not joking."

Sulkily, Casey and Olivia walked inside, confused when Cragen didn't join them. "You two are staying in there until you sort what ever this is out. I'll be outside, so don't even think about going for round two!"

"But I need to be in my office, and my hand hurts!" Casey whined, annoyed with herself about how adolescent her complaining sounded.

*****

"I'll tell McCoy we've got you," Cragen said, and without further ado, slammed the door shut, retreating to the glass window. Within moments, he was joined by Munch and Tutuola. Detective Lake had arrived just after the ruckus had finished, so his first question was,

"What did I miss?"

"Novak and Benson finally decided to have the catfight they've been threatening since the first time our lovely, deceptively strong ADA walked into this office." Munch explained, rubbing at the sore shoulder he'd incurred restraining said normally non-violent Lawyer.

"Oh," Lake said, trying to hide a smirk, joining the others at the observation window.

"Yeah, if they go for it again, my money's on Liv, I think Novak just got a lucky shot in," Tutuola said.

"I don't know, you know what they say about redheads…" Lake started.

"Enough!" Cragen barked gruffly, causing the other three men to start. He saw the humour in the situation, but the fact was, there was only one reason he was allowing Benson and Novak to settle this between themselves instead of suspending his Detective and reporting the ADA to her superior. This made him look bad. Cragen wasn't about to start announcing that a member of his Squad and an esteemed member of the DA's office had engaged in a heated fracas on his watch.

*****

Casey was the first speak, "I think you broke my hand." Her tone was thick with accusation.

"Yeah Novak, with my face, excuse me if I don't break out the miniature Stradivarius, my shoulder is still a little achy from when you hurled me onto Fin's desk."

"_Hurled," _Casey scoffed, making air quotes, "you don't think that's a little inflammatory?"

"Save it, we're not in court," Olivia said, slumping in her chair and glancing about the room for something interesting to focus her eyes on. Unfortunately, the interview rooms had murky green walls, boarded up windows and a zero tolerance policy on amenities.

"All right, like the captain said, lets settle this: what is your problem?" Casey asked. She still hadn't taken her seat and had taken up the rather peculiar stance she tended to adopt when wearing jeans, with elbows bent and both thumbs hooked through the belt loops, though slightly awkwardly with her damaged hand..

"My problem?" Olivia asked, "I may have been the one who grabbed you first, but don't pretend like you weren't baiting me."

"You fucking arrested me Olivia, forgive me if I was a little put out," Casey said, words decelerating, and losing intensity as she reached the end of her sentence, making an apparent effort not to lose her temper again.

"I was trying to help," Olivia said, rubbing her temples. Her head killed, and she had a feeling it was something to do with the ADA's fists of fury.

"Can't we just go back to the way things were, you know, questioning my loyalty and competency at every turn with a constant undercurrent of barely veiled hostility?" Casey asked, reeling off the complex sentence with eloquence.

"How many times are you going to make me apologize Casey?" Olivia asked, producing a look of profound confusion on the younger woman's face.

Of course she was confused. She had no idea that Olivia felt like shit for spending four years acting by turns aloof, condescending, and outright antagonistic to the lawyer for varied, but copious reasons (the fact that she wasn't Alex, the fact that she was Casey, the way Elliot behaved around her, her general petulant deportment), only to find out that she was actually her little sister. And perhaps the reason for her instinctive enmity with Casey had more to do with recognizing some of herself in her half sibling. In particular, the parts of herself she tried her best to fight against.

"I'm sorry," Olivia said, the words carried on a sigh. Casey nodded slowly, tiredly. The fire seemed to have drained from her, and instead of annoyed, she looked uncomfortable, likely from the several punches Olivia had landed on her during their fracas.

"Alright. Me too. I shouldn't have punched you." She admitted. Olivia had to wonder if she meant it was morally wrong to punch her, or if she should have avoided the most likely broken fingers which had come with her outburst.

"Alright then," Olivia said, somewhat nonsensically. It was something to say.

"I saw Elliot," Casey blurted out suddenly, seemingly wishing to change the subject. Olivia immediately darted up from her chair,

"What? Where?"

"When I was in the holding pen, he passed through, he spoke to me," Casey said.

"What did he say?" Olivia asked, trying to keep from sounding panicked and failing miserably.

"Just that there was something he had to do, I asked him if it had anything to do with Hamilton, and those M.I.T.P. pricks, and he said nothing…"

"…so that's a yes then." Olivia added.

"…exactly what I thought," Casey nodded.

"We gotta find him," Olivia said, mind already cycling through the million ways her partner might have gotten himself into trouble of epic proportions already.

"First we gotta get Cragen to let us out of here," Casey said, nodding toward the one-way mirror.

"I'm guessing he's looking but not listening," Olivia said, "or else he'd already be in here kicking our asses up and down the room for seeing Elliot and not telling him. Oh, I know…" Without a second thought, Olivia extended her hand and caught Casey's left hand in a firm handshake in a display of reconciliation. Casey snatched her injured hand away, emitting a stream of expletives that would have stripped the paper off the room, had it been decorated with such wall coverings, in a manner which reminded Olivia of those kids toys which, upon compression of a hand or other such extremity, played back a pre-recorded sound or message. Something told her that the a Casey Novak, Lawyer plush toy would not be found in the children's aisles of all good toy stores any time soon.


	24. Order Restored

**A/N: Blah! This took a while! I had a bunch written, but I realized it needed to occur later, so I had to backtrack and write the rest! Much non-fun-ness. Anyhow, review if you have a mo!** **I shall update faster now I've unfudged my plotline!**

**Chapter 24: Order Restored**

After Cragen had been suitably convinced that there was no further threat to the order of his squad-room, he cautiously allowed both women out.

"Are you two going to behave, or do I have to knock your heads together?" He asked, his voice resounding in the void. As soon as the two women had left the interview room, a hush had fallen on the squad room, silent anticipation.

"Yes," Both chorused dejectedly, heads down, affecting superlatively docile expressions. Whilst Cragen wasn't totally convinced they had learnt their lesson, both looked fatigued and had injuries which likely warranted medical treatment, luckily of the non-urgent variety. He sent them off to the hospital, un-chaperoned, hoping he wouldn't be getting a call from the homicide division shortly.

*****

In light of Casey's injured hand and lack of vehicle, Olivia took up driving duties. She had lent a squad car, complete with flashing lights and jazzy NYPD paintwork. It put her in mind of her days in uniform, though she doubted Novak was in the mood to be regaled with nostalgic stories about her life on the beat. The attorney was slumped low in the chair, pouting ostentatiously, holding her injured appendage, eyes of blame levelled solely on Olivia. She was surprised the steady glare hadn't created two side by side holes in her trademark brown leather jacket.

"You wanna use the sirens?" She asked jovially, in an attempt to lighten the mood. The attorney's frown deepened.

"I'm not twelve," She muttered.

"Could have fooled me," Olivia whispered under her breath.

*****

The hospital trip had taken hours, mostly waiting for Casey's hand x-ray to come back. She'd managed to fracture her ring and little finger, which were both now strapped to her middle finger to keep them straight whilst healing took place, which was a damn shame as that particular digit would have proved useful as she approached Olivia Benson, who was waiting out in the hall for her.

"Four to six weeks and they'll be good as new," Casey sighed, "no permanent damage luckily, but I guess I'm off the baseball team for the next couple of months," she added, when Olivia's expression didn't change. Obviously, she wasn't about to feel guilty for standing in the path of Casey's admittedly bad punch.

"Captain called, said we can have the day off," Olivia said brightly, hopping up from her seat. Casey let out a weary sigh. She knew exactly what the other Detective had planned.

"You want to go look for Elliot." Casey stated. It wasn't necessary to phrase it as a question.

"I had a lead we could follow up, if you're feeling up to it," Olivia said, leading the way toward the exit. Casey paused, weighing up her options. She could admit that despite the copious painkillers she had been dosed with, her stomach was still aching from the blows Olivia had laid there, and her broken hand felt she'd attempted to extract a beloved squeaky toy from the jaws of a rambunctious Doberman and been munched enthusiastically in the process. But that would mean admitting that Olivia had essentially won the fight earlier (the Doctor had said the injury to Olivia's nose was minor, it likely wouldn't even bruise), and Casey wasn't about to do that.

"Sure," Casey nodded, "what's the lead?"

"Well, since The Captains let us go, I was thinking we head over to Queens, Vander's giving a Public Address at a community centre, if Elliot's involved there's a chance we could catch him."

By now they were outside, and Olivia was unlocking the squad car, "okay, but I think this might be a little conspicuous. We better pick up my car. And I'm driving it."

*****

SIX DAYS LATER

A VAN SPEEDING THROUGH THE STREETS OF WASHINGTON

Just as Casey was finishing her story (though in her version, her ass was not as conclusively kicked as it had been in real life), the van slammed to a halt, and the detective and attorney were flung forcefully against the vans double doors. Before Casey could regain her bearings, the doors opened, sunlight blaring in, and gloved hands reaching in, extracting the pair from the van, and depositing them out onto a grassy surface. Casey glanced around to find they were in the middle of some park, or other green space, an expansive one. Three men stood by them, and even though they were dressed in black fatigues and ski masks, Casey could tell by their build that Vander was not among them.

This was a bold move, in broad daylight. She did not like where this was going. The man Casey recognized as the man who had held a gun to her head days before (his eyes were unmistakable) leant down, freeing both she and Elliot's legs with a carpet cutter.

"Up, both of you. Doug, Brett, get the stuff from the van, I'll secure the prisoners," He said, drawing his hand gun and aiming it at she and Elliot. "You two, on your feet, no funny business." They obliged, getting to their feet and reluctantly trudging in the direction the gunman was pointing. The most peculiar thing about the situation was, despite their location clearly being a public park, and from the set of the sun only around late afternoon, there was no one around, the whole area was totally void of life but for Casey, Elliot and their three new found friends. As the crossed the clearing, leaving the two men behind, Casey could see they were headed toward some sort of large monument, a statue of a man of some historical importance no doubt, but whom she could not quite put a name to.

Once they arrived at the statue, the unnamed man had them sit down at its base, securing Elliot to one leg and Casey to the other of the gargantuan replica man whose identity was still a mystery. At this point, the other two men appeared, hefting large metal canisters.

"Don't do anything until I get back," The gunman warned, before heading back to the van himself.

"What's going on here?" Elliot asked, eyeing the men warily. Both wore sickly gleeful expressions. One set his canister down, unscrewing the lid and lifting it again, walking closer and upturning it above Elliot. A clear liquid sloshed out, giving off a distinctive, tart scent. Gasoline. Elliot shook his head and spat violently, sending droplets of the highly flammable liquid in all directions.

Something told Casey this wasn't just some obscure baptism ceremony.

The other man opened his canister and predictably dumped the contents over her. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried her best not to splutter as the gasoline soaked her hair and clothing.

When she opened her eyes, she saw that the other man had returned,

"Ok you two, that'll be all. Go make sure the exits are covered, I'll take care of this." He said, glancing down menacingly. The two men, apparently subordinates, jogged off down the winding tarmac paths that led away from the monument. Once they were suitably out of earshot, the man shook his head.

*****

So this was it.

No one for miles around, tied quite firmly to an immovable concrete statue, covered in a highly volatile substance, ready to become a very public display of the M.I.T.P.'s distain for the NYPD's prosecution of sexually based crimes.

Elliot Stabler had never thought he'd meet a peaceful death, old and in his sleep, but being burned alive, well that wasn't something he'd ever figured on.

Perhaps there was still a way out of this, maybe Olivia was still on their trail, there was a chance she'd get there before. Every time Elliot was in a life or death situation, he had a habit of running through what he'd do, should he escape.

Number one, he'd take Casey Novak out to dinner, do things properly.

He had essentially jumped her bones with no thought to romance or propriety, and since then their "relationship" had consisted mostly of random, sexual encounters, and close calls, where they'd nearly been caught out through sheer silliness. She deserved more than that from him.

*****

TWO MONTHS PRIOR

NEW YORK SUPREME COURT, NEW YORK CITY

Elliot watched from the gallery as Casey took to the courtroom floor, strutting authoritatively across to the witness bench, and proceeding to give an inspired cross-exam with enough steel to cut through the witnesses bullshit account, but enough gentleness that she didn't lose the sympathy of the jury. It was masterful. Although, that wasn't what Elliot was focused on.

He was instead focusing on Casey's only-just-long-enough-to-be-acceptable-in-court skirt, and how the only place it could look better than adorning the Assistant District Attorney's cute behind, would be on his bedroom floor and accompanied by her pristinely pressed suit jacket and crimson button down, and whatever choice of underwear she had made that morning.

Midway through her discourse, Casey paused, flicking him a curious glance. She marched back to the prosecution desk, and scribbled a note in her adorably kid-like scrawl and handed it to him before stalking back to finish her cross-exam.

Elliot quickly read the note, thinking Casey might need he and Olivia to track down another witness, or secure a pivotal piece of evidence:

_Stop__ checking out my ass Stabler! It's distracting me. _

He couldn't hide a grin. He also couldn't resist a reply. He withdrew his notebook and jotted a note, giving Casey a nod, summoning her back to the gallery. She took the note from him, affecting a serious expression that didn't slip even as she read its contents:

_Stop owning such a distracting ass then Novak._

She quickly wrote on the same paper he'd given her, passing it back with a quick flex of her neat brows:

_I can think of one distracting ass in this courtroom right now Stabler…_

Just as Elliot was about to draft a comeback, Judge Petrovski cut in.

"Counsellor, is there something you'd like to share with the rest of the class?" She drawled. Casey glanced back at her, admirably cool,

"Your Honour, I was just requesting some information from my Detective, it's pivotal to the People's case." She said.

"Alright Miss Novak, if it's so 'pivotal' you can have until after lunch to retrieve it. Court is adjourned until two pm."

*****

TWO MONTHS LATER

A PUBLIC PARK SOMEWHERE IN WASHINGTON

"Fucking idiot cops," He muttered, levelling a glare at Elliot, "once again, the NYPD manages to blow months of work and manpower."

"What?" Elliot and Casey said simultaneously. Casey shook her head, but her red-blonde hair remained plastered to her forehead by the gasoline.

"Agent Mark DeSprey, FBI," He said, rolling his eyes at their surprised expressions.

"You're FBI?" Casey repeated.

"Is that not what I just said?" Agent DeSprey sighed.

"Hey, there's no need for that," Elliot snapped defensively. Casey ignored the remark, she was more than capable of defending herself from attacks of the verbal, sarcastic variety.

"Easy Lurch, this is your lucky day," DeSprey said, "I've radioed in to let HQ know that New York's finest have botched yet another investigation. They're sending back up in now. All that's left to do is wait." He dug into his pocket, producing a lighter. Casey's eyes widened.

"Oh relax," He muttered, producing a pack of cigarettes by way of explanation.

*****

SIX DAYS EARLIER

"Nice car," Olivia said as she climbed into the passenger seat of Casey's new Black Audi, "how can you…"

"Promotion to Senior Assistant District Attorney helped," Casey shrugged as she fired up the engine, "that and the fact that this job doesn't allow me much of a personal life to spend my money otherwise." After the car started, the CD player fired up, and the first track, which also happened to be the title track, of Kelly Clarkson's sophomore album, _Breakaway_ began to blare loudly from the in-car stereo.

"Kelly Clarkson?" Olivia said, grinning inanely. Casey frowned. That was just about the least respectable CD in her music collection, a guilty pleasure. Plus the main reason she took her push bike to work was that she was subject to bouts of rather fierce road rage. When she had to take the car, the calming, radio rock of the American Idol winner tended to assuage her frustration with the grid locked Manhattan streets. She was just about to defend her musical choices, when Olivia's expression turned to one of panic,

"Casey, get out of the car, right now!" She said, opening the passengers side and exiting herself. Casey frowned at the bizarre request, but obliged all the same. The detective looked genuinely flustered, and that was never a good thing.


	25. Running for Cover

**A/N: Weird ending to the previous chapter, I know. But it'll all make sense later, promise! Blah…too tired to function now, so I shall shut down. Apologies for any typos…**

**Oh, and review if you've got a moment… it will fill me with happy…**

**Chapter 25: Running for Cover**

"Olivia, what the…" Casey started, only to be immediately tackled by Olivia, sending both of them tumbling onto the poured concrete floor of the garage they had just departed from. Casey blinked at the ceiling above, which had spontaneously become filled with stars, or perhaps her vision was failing her due all the oxygen in her body being rapidly expulsed by a flying Detective landing on her at near enough 60 miles an hour. From outside the garage, Casey heard the distinctive sound of a windscreen shattering. Before she could regain her bearings, Olivia had sprung to her feet, drawn her sidearm and yelled,

"Casey, stay put," She dashed to the garage door, slamming the close button, tapping her booted foot impatiently as the rolling door shuddered down at an intolerably slow pace. Once the metal door engaged with a firm click, Olivia withdrew her radio, quick-firing instructions back to base. The only parts Casey caught were 'sniper', 'swat-team' and 'urgent'.

"You couldn't have just said duck?" Casey said, coughing and wincing as she got to her feet.

"Sorry, couldn't risk it, there was a laser sight on your chest," Olivia said distractedly, fumbling with her cell phone. "I better call the Captain."

"Laser sight," Casey said, a sudden chill spreading through her body, "think it was the M.I.T.P.?"

"Nope," Olivia said, pressing the cell phone to one ear whilst keeping her gun in the other hand, eyeing the garage door warily, "there's no reason they'd suddenly change their M.O. so drastically, I think this is just one hell of an inconvenient coincidence,"

"You mean someone _else_ is trying to kill me?" Casey asked.

"Looks like it," Olivia said, "hi Captain, it's Benson. We've got a situation over at Novak's. We're pinned down by a sniper in the garage below her apartment building…yeah….on their way already Sir…we're both fine. Alright…Will do…I'll keep you posted sir." She flipped her phone shut and slipped it into her pocket.

"Did you play football in High School?" Casey asked, rolling her shoulders round to check that they still functioned, smarting from the earlier body slam. Olivia rolled her eyes.

"I should have let you take your chances with the bullet," Olivia snapped, clearly unimpressed with Casey's lack of gratitude. But then again, she had essentially just saved Casey's life, even if she had been required to take her down with extreme prejudice, WWE style, in the process.

"Thank you," Casey forced out.

"You're welcome," Olivia ground out with equal awkwardness.

*****

It took less than fifteen minutes for the SWAT team to arrive and once the area had been swept, she and Olivia had been ushered into the back of a reinforced SWAT van, the type with long benches running parallel in the back, providing room enough to house a small squadron, though only she and Casey occupied it as they rode back to the station, sat opposite one another.

Casey sighed deeply, "this is reassuring," she muttered, tugging at the bullet-proof vest the SWAT team leader had furnished her with shortly after arrival. Olivia was wearing a matching one.

"It's just a precautionary measure," Olivia said, placing a hand on the attorney's shoulder and giving it a quick squeeze. Casey glanced away. Her immediate expression was one of annoyance and devout stoicism, but Olivia could see beneath her bold exterior, she was masking fear. And rightly so. Now there were two groups with a bounty on her head, and her predecessors almost assassination didn't instil much confidence in the Departments ability to protect it's ancillary members.

"Who do you think it could be?" Casey asked.

"I don't know, unfortunately, in this line of work you wind up pissing off a lot of violent, dangerous people," Olivia shrugged. "Fin and Munch are already going through the list of recently released perps you put away, hopefully they'll get a lead,"

Casey nodded, jutting out her chin and folding her arms across her chest, "alright, let's get back to the station and help them out."

"Afraid not," Olivia winced, knowing her next revelation was going to incense the ADA, "we're taking you to a safe house where we can keep you under guard for the duration. Captains orders."

Casey shook her head, "Olivia, with the greatest of respect to Alexandra Cabot, I'm not hiding from this. I'd rather go out fighting then…"

Olivia cut in, "I'm not talking about witness protection, this is just temporary…"

"And what if we don't get him? Then what?" Casey asked, gripping the edge of the bench she occupied.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Olivia said. Bundling another prosecutor into the WPP wasn't exactly a stellar option, but if it was that or death, Olivia knew which she'd choose. Of course, for Olivia, the only connections she had were work-based. She had no family to miss, no lifelong friends to mourn her. Morbidly, Olivia had sometimes wondered what her funeral would look like. Whether attendance would reach double figures. It was doubtful. She quickly shook herself from that line of thought.

"It's not an option for me," Casey said. She had to admire the lawyers guts. Of course, Casey had a penchant for getting herself into trouble through flippant disregard for her own safety.

"Casey, you're either going to a safe house, or you're going to my apartment," Olivia snapped, "so pick one, because there aren't any other options." Casey opened her mouth to protest, but Olivia cut her off, "and don't start telling me about how I can't tell you what to do, because you know how that went down last time. If you're not smart enough to stay out of trouble, then someone has to keep you out of trouble. You can be pissed at me all you want, but at least you'll be alive to be pissed."

"Those safe houses are always in the middle of nowhere," Casey muttered virtually inaudibly.

"My place it is then," Olivia nodded, "oh, wait, we better get your dog first."

"She'll be fine for a few days," Casey shrugged.

Olivia looked shocked, "you can't leave a dog on it's own for a few days, haven't you ever had a house pet?"

"I had a hamster once," Casey shrugged, "I wanted a dog or cat, but Mom was worried Dad would run it over by accident."

"Couldn't you keep it in the house?" Olivia asked.

"I don't mean with a car, my Dad's in a wheelchair, lost his legs when he was a soldier before I was born," Casey said. Olivia did her best to affect a surprised look. It would do her no good at all to reveal that not only had she spoken to Casey's mother over the phone, but she had spoken to both her parents in person, in the very house Casey had grown up in.

AROUND TWO WEEKS EARLIER

THE HOME OF HANNAH AND JOSEPH NOVAK

"Hannah! You didn't tell me we had a guest or I'd have put my good legs on!" Casey's father wheeled over to the sofa Olivia was presently inhabiting, a warm smile set about his lips. He extended a hand in greeting. "Joe Novak."

"This is Detective Olivia Benson," Hannah explained, "she works with Casey," Joe's genial expression turned to one of concern. There were seldom any good reasons for a cop to pay you a home visit, especially a sex crimes cop.

"Oh, is Casey ok?" He asked, his dark brown eyes were wide and drilling into Olivia's Hannah rolled her eyes.

"She's fine Joe, it's nothing to do with her," Hannah said. Olivia detected more than a hint of annoyance in her tone. Casey's father seemed oblivious to it, and a smile retook his face.

"Sorry, I just worry about Case," He explained, evidently relieved, "it's a dangerous job she does, and she's our only kid, so it's not like we have a spare!"

"_Joe_," Hannah chided her husband for his spare kid comment. Olivia knew Casey being an only child was little to do with it. She was the only child of Serena Benson, but half the time, she needed to be on fire before her mother would even notice she was there. Elliot was the proud father of five, but if even one of them came to harm, she knew he'd be inconsolable.

"Don't worry Mr. Novak, she's fine, I saw her this afternoon, heading into court," Olivia said.

"Olivia's just here to talk about an incident at the hospital, with a patient, would you mind just popping out? Sorry sweetheart, it's kind of confidential." Hannah lied, without flinching. Olivia guessed that came from years of practice, having hidden their only child's origins from him for as long as Casey had been alive.

"Say no more, I'll get out of your hair, nice to meet you Detective," Joe said, beaming another bright grin before wheeling himself out into the kitchen.

"Olivia, before you go," Hannah said, once she had listened to ensure Joseph was out of earshot, "I know you want to tell Casey all of this, as if the truth is some kind of magical medicine, and no matter how bad it feels at the time, you'll be glad you had it later. And by all means, be my guest, I can't stop you. But, remember this: I know my own child. Casey acts all tough and wilful, but inside she's the same, sensitive, eager to please little kid she's always been. Telling her this _will _destroy her. And it will be on your conscience, not mine."

Olivia nodded non-commitally, and after saying a polite goodbye, let herself out.


	26. Clean Up On Aisle Five

**A/N This is what I call a "crapter". It's like a chapter, but more crappy… Ah inventing words…one of the smaller joys in life! Anyhow, I should be able to start updating this faster now I have my plot in order! Oh, and prepare for more special guestage, as I try to bring every ancillary L&O character into this story!**

**Anyhow, thanks be to Krystal, for putting up with my endless "hmm, hey, do you think this would work?" kinda conversations…much loves x**

**Chapter 26: Clean Up On Aisle Five**

"Kurt!" Olivia yelled, her volume and annoyance increasing exponentially by the millisecond as she pounded on the door, occasionally flashing a polite smile to Casey, who struggled to keep hold of her bizarrely named Chihuahua dog. ChiChi wriggled violently in her arms, spinning her miniature tan form around fruitlessly, irked by the sounds of Olivia hammering her door.

"I need to get her a leash," Casey frowned at the canine gyrating frantically in her arms.

"I thought you weren't keeping her," Olivia said.

Casey looked thoughtful for a moment, "I've had…second thoughts." Olivia smirked. The ADA wasn't as hard-boiled as she liked to make out, and Olivia was glad to see she was as vulnerable to the charms of an infuriatingly adorable puppy as the next woman.

Olivia returned her attentions to the door, keen to get the lawyer in her charge indoors, "Kurt, for fucksa…" before she could finish the sentence, the door jerked open, and a bloodshot eyed Kurt occupied the frame. He glowered at Olivia, eyes sliding narrow, but bit his lip, perhaps not wanting to make a scene in light of company. He bit out a gruff hello and trundled back into the apartment with she and Casey following behind. Olivia felt an immense rush of relief wash over her when he padded off to the bedroom, clicking the door shut behind him.

"He's sociable," Casey remarked, with heavy notes of sarcasm.

"Trust me, he's better off in there," Olivia said wearily, moving quick to clear up the mess he'd abandoned, the remnants of some sort of microwave meal, a half empty bottle of spirits, and for unfathomable reasons, numerous copies of the newspaper he once edited.

"Sorry about the mess, Kurt can be a little…" Olivia let her words trail off as she realized he could likely hear her from the not too distant bedroom.

"I thought you were _getting rid of him_," Casey said, dropping to a whisper for the latter part of the sentence.

"That sort of…fell through," Olivia said, choosing her words carefully. Casey's curiosity was already piqued and this was not a conversation she wanted to have at this juncture, "I've got to call the Captain, let him know we've arrived safe," she added, hiding behind the subterfuge of the essential phone call.

THREE EVENINGS LATER

THE APARTMENT OF DETECTIVE OLIVIA BENSON

It had been three days since Casey had seen outside Olivia's apartment, and she was beginning to fear that her usual paleness was about to be taken to extraordinary new levels of pallor, and she would soon pass easily for an albino. Her degree of stir-crazy was only outdone by Chichi's, who had taken to spinning in incessant circles in what appeared to be a futile attempt to consume her own rear carriage.

She couldn't take this much longer.

Kurt had sauntered off to 'see a friend' the same night she had arrived, and had not been seen since. Olivia didn't seem concerned, and Casey couldn't help but think that Benson would have been glad if he never came back. Since then, she had been babysat by varying members of the squad on rotating shifts, all of whom felt the need to occupy her with insipid board games (which Olivia possessed an inordinate number of), and none of whom had made any headway with finding someone who might want her dead. The issue lay in the fact that Casey had only been a prosecutor for six years. Anyone she'd managed to convict with a sentence long enough to breed the lust for vengeance, was still presently incarcerated. As Detective Munch had kindly reassured her, she still had a good few years before her old convictions came back to bite her on the ass. There was always the family and close ones of said convictions, however, that was a large dragnet.

She couldn't even stand by the windows and watch the sun set on New York, Olivia had shut the blinds and given Casey strict instructions not to go near them, which was fair. Her would-be assassin had already demonstrated that they had a high-calibre sniper rifle in their arsenal, and Olivia's windows all faced equal or greater height neighbouring buildings.

Casey was thumbing idly through the cable channels, looking for something to pass the time, exhausted Chichi curled up in her lap when Olivia entered.

*****

"Alright, I'm done for the day," Olivia said, tossing off her coast theatrically, trying her best to affect a smile, but she was beat. Sleep had been elusive the last few nights, and spending hours in front of a computer screen, trawling through terabytes of data did nothing for her already strained eyes and dully thudding head.

"Any leads?" Casey asked, green eyes sparkling hopefully. Olivia couldn't blame the ADA for her frustration at being cooped up in an apartment for three days straight. She did however, have another idea,

"Hey, maybe we should run to the store and grab some supplies for Chichi, what have you been feeding her," she said, expertly changing the subject. As expected, Casey immediately, sprung from the sofa, with only a hint of a cringe from the consecutive ass-kicking's Olivia herself had doled out. She didn't feel guilty. The second one had saved her life, and the first one. Well. She'd had that one coming for six years.

"Mostly takeout…she likes Sushi," Casey said, setting said animal down on the carpet. Chichi seemed worn out from the excitement, and coiled into a neat ball beneath the sofa. Olivia didn't know much about dogs, but she was certain the popular Japanese cuisine was not a suitable dietary supplement for small house pets of Mexican origin.

"Ok, I guess we better call at the store," Olivia said, reclaiming the jacket she had just deposited on the nearby, wall mounted coat rack and swinging it over her shoulders. Casey looked nervous, and Olivia felt a certain pang of trepidation about venturing outdoors with the ADA, however, the store was mere yards from her apartment building.

"Alright," Casey said, shrugging on her bright blue jacket eagerly, perhaps keen to exit the building before Olivia changed her mind.

*****

Walking around the gloomily fluorescent lit produce store, with Detective Benson sticking shadow tight by her side, Casey felt she might as well have hopped into the child seat on the shopping cart. Olivia gingerly pushed the cart between the aisles, peering around each corner as though an assassin might be hiding somewhere in the frozen produce department, shivering, but armed with a harpoon gun beneath a sea of frozen peas and sweet corn. She was half tempted to ask Olivia to buy her a Kinder Surprise Egg, but was afraid she would oblige.

They were about to enter the pet foods section, when Casey spotted someone familiar,

"Hey look, it's Detective Beck," Casey said, nodding toward said Detective, who was loitering aimlessly in the breakfast goods aisle.

"Oh," Olivia said, awkwardly, seemingly not keen to say hello. Casey could understand her reluctance. Technically, Dani Beck had been her replacement, and she'd felt the same, strange sense of discomfort when Alex Cabot had returned, even for the brief time that she had. However, Casey knew she had been slightly (to extremely) short with the Detective, and that was perhaps unfair. Whilst Beck had nearly tanked a couple of her cases, her misconduct was a product of her over exuberance for the job. A trait they shared. It wasn't the first time Casey had been too quick to judge.

"I better say hi," Casey decided, if only to shrug off Benson for a moment. Olivia nodded, allowing Casey to leave her side, after all, she would be safe in the company of another cop. Benson pushed on to the pet foods aisle whilst Casey greeted Beck.

"Detective Beck," Casey said, stepping into the blondes sightline.

"Hey Novak, what are you doing here?" She asked cordially, her cadence strangely warm. Perhaps she was less of a hard-ass when she wasn't on the job.

"Long story," Casey sighed with a weary smile, "what are you doing over this side of the city?"

Dani returned the smile, "same here, long story. Luckily, it's just about to end."

Casey scrunched her brows, confused by the ambiguous statement, until she felt the cool steel nose of a 9mm press against her lower abdomen.

"Say a word," Dani said, freakishly polite smile still fixed on her face, "and the last thing you'll hear is a callout for a _major _clean-up on aisle five."


	27. Forgive Us Our Trespasses

**A/N I don't have too much to say, except more thanks for reading and reviewing, even if I have taken a long time to update this damned thing, and also thanks to Krystal for her help with this and putting up with my incessant whining about writers block. Also, read her kickass new story, "Sugarcane"…. it's the right thing to do!**

**Shameless plugging over, this ought to be the penultimate chapter, jot me a review if you've got a mo.**

_**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Forgive us our trespasses **_

"You're not going to shoot me in the middle of a convenience store," Casey whispered, though her voice shivered with uncertainty. Beck stood close, gun held low to keep it from the eyes of passers-by.

"Really?" Dani said, cocking an eyebrow, "because capping you in your car from a rooftop in the middle of rush hour was just so…subtle?" The Detective's discourse was so casual she might have been discussing last nights baseball game, "keep your mouth shut and come with me," she continued. She slid the gun into her jacket pocket, keeping the business end directed at Casey through her jacket as she led the Attorney out of the store, right behind the back of an oblivious Olivia Benson, who was still deciding between tinned chum, or kibble.

*****

Once they were outside, Casey was put out to find that rain was spitting in huge, ice-burn cold, soaking drops, the kind that drenches to the skin in under sixty seconds. Of course, she was marginally more vexed by the Police Detective presently aiming firearm unwaveringly at her face,

"Put you're hands together like you're praying," Beck commanded, proceeding to Casey's wrists using cable ties.

"Beck, what the hells going…"

"Novak, shut your fucking mouth, and start walking!" Dani barked. Her earlier caustic calm had vanished and the woman seemed nearly crazed as she snapped the order. She wondered how in the hell Olivia hadn't noticed she was missing (it was a _small_ shop) or if she had, what was taking her so long.

Beck propped a battered chair against the back door, to hinder any pursuant, then marched Casey down the allyway toward a parked blue hatchback. The vehicle had so much rust Casey was worried she'd need a tetanus shot just from standing near it. Beck opened the boot, pointing inside with her gun.

"In," Beck grunted. When Casey didn't move, she added, "I'm so not joking here,"

"You're making a mistake," Casey said, visions of Beck planting a brick on the accelerator once she was tucked inside, sending she and the poorly maintained Volkswagen careening into the Hudson. That was not how Casey wanted to go.

If she had to die in the boot of a car, she at wanted it to at least be a two-door. Alloys would be nice, though not essential.

"_You _made the mistake counsellor, and you're the last piece of the puzzle here, once you're dead, I got no one else to take care of, so get the fuck in the car before this gets messy."

Beck was clearly in no mood to be fucked with, so whilst getting into the boot was a bad idea, it was a infinitely better one than being shot there and then. Casey complied silently, hoping Olivia was somewhere in the vicinity and not still perusing the pet food aisles.

*****

She only took her eyes off her for a minute, tops, then she was gone.

How often Olivia had heard that explanation fall out of the mouths of inattentive mothers, and she cursed herself for her unyielding judgement. Apparently, it was easily done.

Then again, there was a small difference between taking your eyes off a toddler and letting them wander merrily into the waiting arms of a paedophile, and leaving a fully sized lawyer in conversation with a fellow cop then turning to find her gone. Olivia was beginning to think she might be cursed. Every time she turned her back in anyone's presence, it seemed that they came to harm. Usually serious.

There was a possibility that Casey was merely searching out her favoured cereal, but that was unlikely, given that the lucky charms were patently visible on the centre shelf.

"Casey!" Olivia called, voice starting to rise with panic. Goddamn it, ChiChi wasn't the only one in need of a leash. Casey was definitely gone, and Olivia was definitely fucked. She dashed out into the street, shopping errand forgotten and withdrew her pistol, ignoring the streaming rain as she nearly stumbled turning left to right, frantic, her eyes closing in on a car speeding away. Olivia bit out a curse and took off sprinting back to her apartment block, where her loaner squad car was parked, repeating the license plate number back over and over in her head until she had the chance to call it in.

*****

The engine sound died out in the abject dark of the car boot and Casey steadied her breathing. Though the trip had felt like hours, restrained and encased in the lightless little cavern, sliding about on the coarse boot carpet, sundry tools occasionally knocking into her, the low thrum of the engine reverberating through her being, mirroring her own shakes, she knew it had only been minutes in actuality.

The door rose above her, Beck looming above.

"Come on, out you get," Beck muttered, reaching in and gripping Casey's jacket collar, assisting her out of the boot roughly and nudging her in the back with the muzzle of her ever present pistol once Casey was on her feet, urging her across the grass. This was when Casey looked around, realizing for the first time where she was. A graveyard. Casey felt her anxiety rising and could not help keeping an eye out for a freshly dug plot. Luckily, perhaps, Beck stopped her at a large granite headstone. Grass had long since started to grow over the plot, and a single, lonely bunch of headless flowers lay close to the headstone, splayed and soaked by the still teeming rain.

"Get on your knees!" Beck barked, having to shout to be heard over weather which had swiftly turned torrential. Not seeing any other options, Casey knelt on the sodden ground, feeling the uncomfortable sensation of the cold mud abruptly soaking into her jeans.

"Dani, can you please tell me what this is about?" Casey said, as gently as she could. Enraging an already at least mildly crazed armed woman was not part of Casey's game plan.

"It's about him, read the name,"

Casey squinted at the headstone in front of her, the limited light made reading the engraving difficult.

"Michael Dooley?" Casey said hesitantly. The name rung familiar, but she couldn't place it.

"You don't remember him, do you?" Beck said, faint amusement slipping into her tone. "I'll give you a clue: You helped put him here." Casey remained silent, wracking her brain. She would have remembered killing someone, or even being instrumental in their death. That was not the sort of thing that easily slipped the mind.

"Alright, I'll refresh your memory. I'm not surprised you don't remember, if I hadn't looked deep enough I would have missed your involvement and taken out the wrong ADA," She said, touching the gun to the back of Casey's head with intent. Casey stiffened up, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. She was certain she wasn't going to like this story.

Beck continued,

"Four years ago, you were covering for the petty crimes division ADA. My _husband_ Mike and his partner brought in a couple of juveniles who had ripped off a convenience store. These little ass-wipes had been escalating for months, Mike knew they were trouble, wanted them thrown in jail where they belonged. Despite Mike's protests and warnings, you went ahead and pled them out, fucking probation. Two weeks later, just like he told you, they were up to their old tricks. Only this time, they had upped their game, and were jacking a car. Plus they were packing. There was a messy shoot out. Single bullet to the chest killed him. He didn't even make it to the hospital."

Casey swallowed hard. That's what this was about. She remembered the case, vaguely. She had to consider her next words carefully,

"Dani, as sorry as I am about what happened to your husband, there is no way I could have known what would happen," She said evenly.

"You could have trusted him," Beck countered.

"Even if I had, they were juveniles, and all they did was shoplift a few hair products. I couldn't have got them jail time," Casey argued back.

"You could have tried instead of just bending over," Beck spat angrily, nudging the gun not so gently against Casey's head.

"Why are you blaming me for this?" Casey asked sharply.

"Oh, I'm not blaming you exclusively. Believe me. Like I said, you're the last piece of the puzzle. I already took care of the remaining kid, he was paroled a week ago, the bastard who sold the kids the gun, and the asshole probation officer who didn't keep a tight enough reign on them," Beck reeled off casually as thought she was just reciting a shopping list, "and you complete the collection of fuckers who caused my husbands murder."

"It's not my fault," Casey bit out.

"Sure it is Novak. If you weren't around, my husband would still be alive. I call that culpability." Beck said.

"Any other ADA would have done the same," Casey said, getting into the swing of the argument.

"Maybe. But then maybe they'd have helped a Detective out, believed him instead of letting killers out on the streets with a slap on the wrists to save you the trouble of going all the way to the courthouse."

Casey opened her mouth to correct Beck's understanding of plea bargain procedure (as she still had to go before a Judge to complete the plea bargain, so Beck's argument that Casey had pled out to avoid a trip to the courthouse was somewhat misinformed), when Beck spoke again, in a low tone,

"Enough. We're through arguing. You know why this is happening. You're a Catholic right? Say the Lords Prayer."

"Beck I…"

"Fucking say it!" Beck yelled insistently. Casey shut her eyes, hoping she remembered it correctly. Her Catholic parents would kick her ass if she didn't. Hell, God would kick her ass.

Casey cast a brief glance to the clouded sky and began, "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven…." She stalled for a moment, trying to remember the next verse.

"Did I say to stop?" Beck asked.

"Uh…give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil," Casey put special emphasis on that line. A psychotic Police Detective with apparently a string of murders inspired by vengeance in her not too distant past definitely qualified as an evil, and Casey would accept delivery from said evil no matter what form it came in. Be it angelic intervention or Olivia Benson finally catching up with them. That is, if she was even in pursuit. "…for thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen."

Just as Casey uttered the last line, she heard the unmistakable metallic sound of Beck cocking the gun.

"Alright, now you've made your peace with your God, I think it's time for you to go meet him."

THREE DAYS LATER

The gates to the park were guarded by men in fluorescent yellow jackets. They looked official, but Olivia Benson knew better than to just present her badge. Since this was where the van carrying Casey and Elliot had gone, there was every chance they were M.I.T.P.

Plus, she wasn't carrying her shield at the moment, and she had no fucking time wait for the men (if they were, in fact genuine park security) to ring her badge number in to head quarters to verify her identity. Luckily, there was a convenient tree, and she had managed to shimmy up, despite the violent protests of her bullet afflicted calve, and enter the park stealthily over the wall. She shuffled through the copious trees silently sighting first the van, then in the distance, a monument. Attached to it, if she was not mistaken, was both the ADA and her Partner. She breathed a sigh of relief as she snuck in to get a better view.

Her relief quickly reversed into panic as she got closer.

The same man she and Casey had apprehended briefly by the warehouses stood next to her captive comrades, talking thought she could not make out a word from this distance. She could however see that both Elliot and Casey were soaking wet, with only one explanation in the form of a couple of upturned gasoline tanks sitting nearby.

Olivia drew her gun and from her cover behind a knotty oak tree, took aim at the man.

The next seconds were all a blur.

The man withdrew a lighter from his pocket, and Olivia focused all her attention on the harmless looking, liquid filled plastic gadget. Olivia felt as though her vision warped, but she had to stay focused, she needed her aim, which she levelled at his forehead. Couldn't afford him having a moment to fall conveniently. She needed him down in one.

He thumbed the ignition and gave Olivia no choice. With one last deep breath, she pulled the trigger hoping to hell her aim was as good as it was at the firing range.


	28. You're So Fucking Special

**A/N: Okay, it's been aaages! Got carried away writing a couple of other projects, to hopefully address the lack of caseybased fiction on here lately (one which is nearly ready for posting, one of which is too evil for words and might not see the light of day), and holidays and other distractions didn't help! This story is nearly done (promise…). As for the last bit, it may be a bit confusing as it was hinted at during a much earlier chapter, and much has happened since then! However, that's unfortunately the haphazard way my mind tends to work! So, if confused, let me know and explaination shall be given! Though knowing me, you shan't be any more enlightened…god, look at me ramble… on to the story, reviewing would make me very happy, in a shallow kind of way, but happy nonetheless :-)**

**Oh, and if anyone read my last story "One Night in Georges Office" I apologise for the absolute bizarreness of it. I occasionally indulge my insane side.**

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**Chapter twenty-eight: You're So Fucking Special… **

"I'm gonna count backward from ten, then I'm putting a couple of bullet's into your head, and pop! It'll be over. You won't feel a thing," Beck said soothingly. Even if she was an assassin, at least she was a caring one, who ensured her killings took place with minimal discomfort for the mark.

How very fucking gallant of her.

Screw this, she'd already ruined her favourite jeans, and Beck was about to kill her. There was no way, feasibly, that Casey could make the situation any worse. She had nothing to lose. Steeling herself, she got to her feet just as Beck hit seven in her countdown, turning to face her assailant.

"Hey, Novak, get back down," Beck said, taking a step back, surprise registering on her rain sodden face.

Casey shrugged, jutting her chin out, "if you're convinced this whole grudge is so noble and just, you ought to be able to look me in the eyes when you kill me," she said, relieved when Beck seemed to consider her statement, and didn't immediately do just that.

"Do you want your parents to be able to ID you or not?" Beck threatened, touching the nose of the pistol to Casey's chin in a transparent threat.

"It's your choice, but I'm not dying on my knees." Casey stated, feeling a little swell of pride at her own bravery.

"Have it your way," Beck said, forcibly rolling her eyes, but demeanour patently unsettled by the Lawyers pluck, and the fact that Casey seemed to have co-opted control of the situation. Good. If she was going to shoot Casey, no way was she about to make it easy for her. Beck backed up, raising her the pistol to Casey's forehead.

She resisted the urge to shut her eyes and instead focused intensely on the Detective, green eyes boring into Beck's blue.

"You are aware that the police are easily going to make the same connections you did to carry out this vendetta and you'll get caught," Casey said, doing her best to make conversation and stall her execution further.

"I'm sorry, have I accidentally given you the impression I give a flying fuck?" Beck asked, "After you're taken care of, that's it for me, job done. They can fry me for all I care. I ain't running."

"They can't," Casey piped up, desperate to add something else to the conversation.

Beck gave a heavy sigh, "What? Four counts of premeditated murder, one being a probation officer, another an officer of the court? All assasination style shootings with the vic restrained? I think you overestimate the leniency of your office."

Casey shook her head, "Oh, I don't doubt they'll go for the death penalty, they just don't use the electric chair in the State of New York anymore."

Beck looked puzzled, "Oh, jeez, right. Is it lethal injection now? I thought you got a choice."

Casey nodded, "in Washington they still give you the option of hanging, but New York, it's just the needle."

"Thanks, good to know," Beck said, eyes narrowing as she remembered her actual goal. "Anyway, lets get this over with. Any last words?"

Casey shrugged, "uh, look behind you?"

"Clever Novak," Beck said with a wry smile, "if you wanna make that wise ass remark your last words then be my…" before Beck could complete the sentence, Olivia had closed the distance and launched through the air in a fashion similar to the tackle she'd used on Casey a few days earlier. She slammed Dani to the ground, swiftly re-organizing herself so that she was straddling the other Detective, snapping cuffs on. It looked even more impressive in third person. Olivia got to her feet, batting ineffectually at the mud now pasted to her black slacks.

"Mirandize yourself," She muttered to the restrained Dani Beck, who was still too stunned to speak. She approached Casey, withdrawing a penknife from god knows where and cutting her free. Casey had to actively hold herself back from pulling Benson into a desperately thankful bear hug. Instead, she said,

"Wow, you should seriously consider trying out for the precincts football team."

"Funny Counsellor, a little gratitude wouldn't go amiss," Olivia frowned, straightening out her leather jacket, which was also slicked with wet soil.

"Thank you. Again," Casey said genuinely thankful and slightly woozy from the adrenaline flood was now dissipating in her veins.

"You're welcome, again," Olivia said, "I only caught the tail-end of your conversation, but were you arguing your way out of getting shot back there?"

"I nearly did," Casey said, crossing her arms tight over her chest, beginning to shiver, either from the cold or the near death experiences which were getting far too frequent for her liking.

Olivia managed a smile, "wow, I'm actually a little impressed," she wandered away to check on their prisoner, finding her still restrained, "alright, let's get back to the precinct, I'll get someone to book Beck while I take your statement. Oh, and you owe me a new pair of pants," she added, gesturing to the mud splattering her current attire.

"After that? I think I might need a new pair myself," Casey joked as Olivia pulled Beck up to her feet, nudging her in the general direction of the nearby squad car.

Olivia rose an eyebrow, "nice, thanks for that Novak."

"Kidding," Casey said quickly.

*****

THE OFFICE OF ADA CASEY NOVAK

Much to her distain, the second he'd heard that the imminent threat to her life was over, Jack McCoy had called Casey back into the office. Due to the ongoing threat from whomever had murdered Staten Island's answer to her, she was still under police escort and said gargoyle like uniforms followed her closely as she stepped out of the car and made her way into the office.

Not only that, after the close call at the convenience store, Olivia had designated herself Casey's own personal, unshakable bodyguard, even following Casey to the bathroom, though she did wait outside the stall. There were certain lines Casey would not allow the overzealous Detective to cross…

Perhaps it was for the best, she thought as she left the guards outside, dropping her coat off before stationing herself behind her desk. Olivia took a seat on the sofa. Casey shuffled through her internal mail as her voicemail droned in the background. Mostly, it was just updates from other departments, requests from persons who were not aware of her temporary absence, but the final message was from McCoy, requesting her presence is his office as soon as possible.

She slumped down in her chair, knees suddenly weakened. She didn't suppose her boss just wanted to congratulate her on dodging yet another bullet (both proverbial, and literal)

"Do you want me to come with?" Olivia asked,

"I think I can handle it," Casey sighed, getting to her feet and leaving the Detective to her own devices.

THE OFFICE OF DISTRICT ATTORNEY JACK MCCOY

Her boss was thumbing through a document when she entered,

"Ah, Casey, take a seat," He said, sliding the paperwork away and retrieving a binder. What ever discussion he wanted to have with her required a whole binder. This was far from good.

"Not to rush you but I've got a whole bunch of stuff I need to catch up on, with being out of the office for days, it's piled up," Casey tried, hoping to get the meeting over with, with a bare minimum of build-up.

"Casey, sit." He insisted softly, in a manner wholly uncharacteristic. Shit. He couldn't possibly be about to fire her just after she'd been kidnapped and damn near assassinated, could he? She could see no other reason for his docility. She took a seat, staring down at the desk.

"It has come to my attention that I might have been a little hasty to pull you up on your written work without considering the extenuating circumstances," he said. Casey frowned slightly with confusion. She had been stressed by Elliot's disappearance, but McCoy didn't know that. Hopefully.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure I follow," Casey said.

"Casey, if you had told me that you were dyslexic, then we could have made arrangements to accommodate your needs,"

"I'm sorry, what?" Casey interrupted, the words springing out before she had a chance to remind herself it was her boss she was sitting in front of.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," he said gently.

"Who told you?" Casey asked, feeling her face colour. In seven years at the DA's office she had managed to keep it under wraps, and it wasn't something she hadn't disclosed to many people in her previous employment , with the exception of Mary Conway-Clark, who she had clerked for as a newly qualified lawyer. Even then, the former Judge had only found out because her college mentor had let it slip whilst arranging her placement.

"A Detective from your squad, apparently word got out about my ticking you off, which again, I apologise for," McCoy said. Casey knew it had gotten out. Her friend Christina had let her know that someone (likely McCoy's bitchy gossip mongering secretary) had told her that rumours were floating around the office that McCoy had threatened Casey with suspension over her document production. That of course was a massive exaggeration, but in a drama-starved office such as theirs, small events had a way of getting blown out of proportion.

Casey remained silent, cursing herself for asking who told McCoy. She now had no way to deny it. When the duration of her speechlessness crossed the threshold into uncomfortable silence, McCoy cleared his throat deliberately,

"I've arranged a meeting with our Personnel department to see what changes we can make to help you out," McCoy said. He was smiling a smile she had seen all to often. He felt sorry for her. She just felt special, and not the good kind.

"Great, I'll look forward to it," Casey numbly, getting to her feet and nodding adieu to her superior before heading back to her office. Whilst how they had found out her secret was a mystery, she had a damn good idea who had spilled to Jack McCoy.

Casey wouldn't be surprised if her Boss was in Olivia Benson's speed dial.

*****

Olivia was about to greet the returning Lawyer when Casey slammed the door loud enough to knock the pigeons off the window sill of her office. Silently, Casey rounded her desk, settling in her seat, then pointing at the chair opposite her, rather curtly barked,

"Sit."

Olivia didn't appreciate being spoken to like an animal, and so remained on the couch,

"What's up?"

"I'm curious Olivia," Casey said, sardonic, one red-blonde eyebrow raised, "when did you decide you were going to completely screw up my career? Was it after the whole incident with Saul Picard and Elliot, or have you just been slowly escalating it from the beginning?"

"What are you talking about?" Olivia said, getting up and walking to the desk occupied by the intensely pissed attorney, but not sitting, on principal.

"Drop the act. Jack told me it was a Detective from the squad I work with. " Casey said, "how'd you find out? Did you pull my school files? Looking for any past sordid deeds to use against me?"

It was amazing how trying to help could backfire so spectacularly sometimes. Olivia tensed, again contemplating what she ought to disclose.


	29. The Best of Intentions

**A/N Sorry for the epic, epic delay, been busy and also lazy…anyhow, it's still not quite the last chapter, but oh so very nearly!**

**Oh, and as for the lack of Casey/Elliotness… well the timelines ought to have converged roughly the fourth chapter, bringing them back together…didn't quite turn out that way due to an utter lack of plotting from me. On the upside, they shall both be reunited for the follow-on story, plus I'm a quarter way through another, slightly less complicated Casey and Elliot based story which I'll likely post when it's totally completed, saving the epic delays this ones had. Anyhoo, on with the story!…**

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**Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Best of Intentions **

TWO WEEKS AND SEVERAL DAYS EARLIER

THE RESIDENCE OF HANNAH AND JOSHUA NOVAK

"Hannah, can I bother you ladies for a second?" Casey's father called from the kitchen. Hannah nodded apologetically to Olivia and replied,

"Come in Josh!"

Casey's Father rolled in, neatly dodging between the sofa at the coffee table, handing Hannah a few pages of hand written text on lined paper,

"Can you have a check over this for me? I'm just about to head over to the post office," He said, beaming a wide grin, "and I've made a pot of coffee, I'll bring it on in when you ladies are done with 'girl talk'." With that, he propelled himself back into the kitchen, and Olivia had to admire his grace, considering he was flitting about in a massive metal contraption.

"Letters to his old soldier buddies, some are out in Iraq now," Hannah explained, "he's dyslexic, like Casey, I just go over it and make sure it's presentable for him."

"I didn't know she was," Olivia said.

"Yes, severely, school was a nightmare for her. But she's nothing if not stubborn about it," Hannah said, with an almost proud smile, "I swear to god, that girl became a lawyer just because it was the most difficult profession she could think to take up with her problem. "

TWO WEEKS AND SEVERAL DAYS LATER

THE OFFICE OF ADA CASEY NOVAK

"Your Mom told me," Olivia admitted, "I don't remember how it came up, I thought if I spoke to McCoy it might help…"

"Help?" Casey said, mouth tugging with a wry sort of smile which didn't reach her eyes, "do you have any idea how people try to 'help'?"

"No," Olivia said timidly. Casey leant forward,

"Do you know how it feels to sit in an exam after the bell has gone, all the rest of your classmates are leaving, and the teacher's glaring at you from her desk for making her stay an extra hour because the Principal has told her she has to make 'special allowances' for a single kid in her classroom."

"Casey, I just thought…"

Clearly, Casey's rant was not over, "the reason I was reticent to tell McCoy about my dyslexia, is because it's not a big deal, but I knew he'd make it one. Now I have a meeting with personnel to look forward to, which will no doubt result in lots of special 'considerations' to help me out since clearly, despite somehow managing to fluke out and score myself a law degree and pass the bar on my first attempt, I obviously can't even make out a D from a B or spell my own name in a hurry."

"I'm sorry…" Olivia said, for what felt like the hundredth time in a very short stretch.

"Oh don't worry, your thank you card is in the mail," Casey snapped bitterly, "though don't be surprised if it doesn't arrive, it's likely I spelt the address wrong."

Olivia sucked in a deep, even breath, calming herself. As infuriating as the attorney's verbose sarcastic lecture was, it wasn't entirely unjustified.

"I'm mystified Olivia," Casey continued, "what exactly has brought out this new altruistic side in you toward me?"

Olivia had been wrestling with this for days, and whether it was the anger brought on by Casey's frankly ungrateful outburst (she had only been trying to help, and had saved the woman's life less than twenty-four hours ago), or just her own need to get the secret off her chest, but either way, she reached into the inner pocket of her leather jacket and produced a neat white envelope which had been burning a hole there for days, handing it to Casey.

"And this is…?" Casey asked, appearing thoroughly confused.

"You wanted an explanation, I'm giving it to you." Olivia shrugged.

"Well gee Olivia, this isn't how it works, aren't you supposed to hold up three and let me pick one?"

"Casey, shut up and listen for a second," Olivia snapped, catching the ADA off guard with the abrupt change in her demeanour from apologetic docility to assertive irritation, "you asked me why things have changed, and inside that envelope, you'll find an explanation."

Casey rolled her eyes and immediately turned the envelope so that the sealed fold faced her, her thumb readying to open it there and then. Olivia caught her wrist.

"Wait, before you open that, you need to know: You really don't want to know what's in there."

"Is it anthrax?" Casey asked with admirable sincerity.

"Casey, I mean it. There are some things we're better off not knowing, but I thought it best to leave the choice up to you. Now you can open it, but don't say I didn't warn you." Olivia said.

The young lawyer stared, blinking slowly, then shook her head with a soft sigh, sliding open a drawer and dropping the envelope inside, "is cryptic time over now? Because I have work to do."

"I'll go," Olivia whispered, taking her leave and wondering if she hoped Casey would open the envelope or not.

*****

"Knock, knock!" Came a familiar voice from the other side of Casey's office door. Before she could deny entrance to her unwanted guest, Brian Peluso sauntered in, making himself comfortable opposite her at her desk.

"What do you want Brian?" Casey asked wearily, still moderately pissed off from her earlier encounter with the now mystical Detective Benson who had landed her with an ominous envelope she was curiously hesitant to open. She continued to type whilst he spoke, hoping her clear disinterest would shine through, and he would leave.

"Nothing much going down in Vice at the minute, thought I'd check out how you're doing," He said.

"I'm catching up, slowly," Casey muttered, gesturing to the ever growing stack of case files she had managed to corral inside a large plastic tray set upon her desk.

"Oh," he nodded, "I heard Jack called you in this morning…" Casey halted from her work, turning to glare at the other Lawyer. He was always looking to pick up office gossip, but Casey sure as hell wasn't about to give him his latest scoop.

"You know what Brian, if you have so little to do over in vice, how about you go down the street and grab a me a coffee, and whilst you're out there, how about you get yourself a life too…"

"Jeez Casey, you're busy, I get it," He said, quickly getting to his feet, holding his hands up playfully in surrender, "oh, and by the way, I had something come through from my squad, I think it might be pertinent to one of your cases. I'll send it over…" he took one last look at the near malevolent look on Casey's face and quickly added, "…by e-mail of course."

THE SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT SQUAD ROOM

Olivia was still tugging her jacket off when her desk phone began to ring. She hadn't even had time to pour herself a coffee. Halfway wishing the caller would ring off before she got there, she took her time hanging her brown leather jacket on the rack and strolling to the desk at a leisurely pace. No such luck. With a sigh, she picked up the handset and let out a lethargic,

"Benson,"

"It's Casey, I need you to come over to my office," the Lawyer barked down the line in a curt fashion. Olivia froze, nearly dropping the receiver. She must have opened the envelope. Still, Casey's voice sounded too calm. Olivia would have thought even Casey's normally resolute stoicism would crack with the weight of the news the letter held.

"What for?" Olivia asked, nonchalantly, even as her pulse picked up.

"It's about Elliot, I think I've got a lead."

Olivia had never made better time getting to the DA's office.

EIGHT HOURS LATER

"Well the lights are on, but it doesn't look like anyone's home," Olivia concurred. She and Casey sat in yet another different car, this time it was the temporary replacement Casey's insurance company had furnished her with after her Audi had been assassinated by Beck, although apparently all it needed was a replacement windscreen and drivers seat. They were staking out a house one of Casey's colleagues had suggested. The squad he was assigned to had earmarked it as a location where illegal poker games were being held by none other that Mr Nick Vander himself, and as such, it was highly likely that some of his other, slightly less innocuous illegal activities might also take place there.

"I'm gonna take a look around," Olivia said, drawing her sidearm and reaching for the door handle. Then she paused for a moment, recalling the last time she had left the attorney unattended. "On second thoughts, come with me."

Olivia quietly took to the porch stairs, gun pointed toward the ground and Casey in tow. Just as they had made it to the top of the stairs, the lock sounded. Someone was coming.

"Quick!" Olivia whispered, nodding to one side of the doorframe whilst she swiftly sequestered herself on the opposite, flattening her back against the outside wall. The door swung open, and before she could catch a look at the home occupier, she heard Casey say,

"Elliot?"

She turned just in time to see her Partners back, as he rather illogically clocked Casey in the head with the rear end of his sidearm, sending the lawyer thudding unceremoniously to the floor. Before Olivia could mutter so much as a 'whatthehellareyoudoing?' Elliot spun around and gave her exactly the same treatment, sending her vision black.


	30. Battle Done, War Begun

**A/N Finally completed the last chapter! Apologies for the bloody confusing dual timeline thing, it sounded much simpler inside my tiny brain. **

**Also, this won't tie off all the loose ends since it's part of a trilogy(which is an amazing word, I just like saying it…). I need to perhaps scale down.**

**Anyways, on to the actual chapter, it's a little epilogueish, but it sort of needs to be.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty: Battle Done, War Begun**

TWO DAYS LATER

A PUBLIC PARK SOMEWHERE IN WASHINGTON

Casey had played paintball once, years ago. She hadn't wanted to, the idea of schlepping around a faux battlefield in fatigues and shooting at people with toy guns sounded unforgivably juvenile. Unfortunately, she had been dragged along with the rest of the DA's office on an ill-advised 'team-building' exercise at then DA Arthur Branch's behest.

It hadn't gone well.

She had been on a team with Alex Cabot, who in what could have been viewed as a portent, had been shot almost instantly. She later passed it off as deliberate, claiming she'd leapt into the line of fire intentionally to get herself out of the stupid game. Casey half believed her, but also wondered if the fact that her glasses didn't fit under the protective mask provided had not been a contributing factor, after all, upon walking onto the field, Alex had promptly face-fived an enormous, knotty Oak tree.

Branch could have been auditioning for Rambo. The man ducked and darted about, at a speed belying his age and frame, mercilessly gunning down his underlings with extreme prejudice. It was questionable whether the activity was to build friendly relations between colleagues, or a stress relieving exercise for the big man himself.

Casey had managed to last until near enough the end of the game. She was quick on her feet, and not too bad a shot, and she had just sequestered herself behind a particularly large fallen tree trunk when she saw it happen.

Branch's secretary, an unusually short lady in her early fifties with a neatly permed mane of auburn hair, was hidden behind a nearby tree, board stiff, attempting to see out the game in cover, when the Manhattan District Attorney appeared through a thick wall of foliage, paint-firing rifle pointing square at his devoted assistant.

As though faced with a real weapon, the woman shrieked and dropped her own paint gun, raising her hands in the international sign for surrender.

For a second, Casey thought he would show compassion for his surrendered secretary. She couldn't have been more wrong. Despite actual banality of the moment, time appeared to dial down to slow motion as her Boss shouldered the rifle and snapped out two quick shots, both red paintballs meeting their mark and exploding in a flare of spectacular crimson, splattering the nearby trees as the stricken assistant fell dramatically to the dirt ground.

Casey had always imagined that's how it would look to see someone get shot in the head.

As it turned out, it wasn't even close.

A sharp, unassuming crack sounded in the Park and Agent DeSprey's head snapped back with a jerk, near comically, his body collapsing beneath like a marionette relieved of it's strings by some cosmic pair of scissors.

His head lolled to the side, his empty eyes facing Casey and Elliot, who were still fastened tight to the immovable statue, mouth hanging open, forehead punctuated by a deep red full stop. The lighter was still in his hand, though unlit now the pressure from his thumb had relented.

He was alive.

And then he wasn't.

The lack of drama and gore just seemed to enhance the tragedy of the event.

"Oh god!" Casey yelled, immediately averting her gaze, though she knew immediately, it was not a sight she would quickly forget, if ever. Elliot's face also registered shock, but instead of concentrating on shuffling as far away from the body as the restraints would allow, instead, his head was darting about, likely trying to place the source of the fatal gunshot.

Then it became all too apparent.

In the distance, a familiar figure began to take shape, limping across the expanse, gun still poised.

"Oh fuck…" Elliot ground out, eyes wide as the same realization that had just struck Casey hit him.

Olivia hobbled closer, a sickly pale draining the olive colour from her skin as she blinked away from her handiwork, lowering her weapon and rushing to Casey and Elliot.

"Are you guys alright?" She asked shakily, looking over her gasoline soaked compatriots. Before either Casey or Elliot had a chance to reply, their conversation was interrupted by the wail of sirens, a SWAT van sped up the park path, slamming to a clumsy halt feet away. Off in the distance, Casey could see several other balaclava wearing men invading the park, gratuitously sized assault rifles at the ready. The upside was the situation was finally in control. The downside was Olivia had just killed a Federal Agent in error and didn't even know it.

"Put the gun down!" A shout came from the squad leader, and Olivia slowly crouched, placing her weapon down.

PROVEDENCE HOSPITAL, WASHINGTON

By the time Captain Donald Cragen made it to the hospital, it was approaching nine o'clock in the evening and he found Novak and Stabler in a hospital room. The bulky Detective seemed unharmed, but weary. He sat on a stackable plastic chair, his shoulders slumped low, elbows leant on knees, fingers knotted, chin resting atop as though his neck could no longer support the weight. Their resident lawyer laid on her side atop the hospital bed, staring into space sleepily, her strawberry blonde hair fastened into a hasty, loose ponytail. One arm was wrapped to her shoulder with a white triangular sling of gauze. Olivia was still in surgery, undergoing a minor operation to remove a bullet from her leg.

The Captain had to ask,

"Now that I know you're all safe, does someone want to tell me what the hell went on here?"

"Long story," Stabler grunted.

"And does anyone else smell gasoline?" Don added, looking around for the source.

"Longer story," the injured ADA chipped in.

"Alright. We'll head back to New York in the morning. We can take statements then…" He started, only to be interrupted by his travelling companions finally catching up with him. The room door swung open revealing Detectives Munch and Tutuola, and the older Detective had something small, beige and cowering cradled in his arms.

John approached the bed, and when the young lawyer saw the visitor, she seemed to rouse finally.

"ChiChi?"

Elliot looked up at the rat-like creature as it leapt from Munch's arms, bounding up the presently horizontal attorney and smothered her in enthusiastic doggy kisses,

"When did you get a dog?" He asked.

"While _you _were missing," Novak said acidly. The bitter edge to her tone, and the way Elliot shrunk back at her remonstration hinted again at something Don had suspected. Something was definitely going on between the two, and though at some point he needed to address that, he presently had bigger issues with his squad than a little professional impropriety.

He sighed, rubbing at his aching temples. Whilst he was glad to have his squad back, intact, if a little travel worn, he knew the shit would be hitting the fan in the not too distant future.

Olivia had shot a Fed. And got pissed enough when they accidentally crossed jurisdictions.

This would not be pretty.

**THE END**


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